Stag and the Maiden
by JEGlass
Summary: His mistake was grave and his punishment a torment, forced to remain suspended between forms, wandering the forest as a servant to a god he did not understand. For years there was little hope redemption would ever be his until a girl from a poor provincial town crossed his path and inadvertently set the wheels of fate into motion. But where does the Beast end and Kristoff begin?
1. Prologue

**A/N:** Greetings! For those of you who are return readers, welcome back! For those of you who are new to my work, welcome! You are embarking on my Frozen/Beauty and the Beast crossover fic focusing on the ever-lovely Kristanna pairing. There will also be a strong element of Snow Sisters as well as Frohanna. So here we go, and lets I hope I can manage to make lightning strike twice! One more thing, if you all would be so kind as to also read the **A/N** at the end of the prologue I would be very grateful.

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><p>He blew into his hands to warm them, breath turning to white vapor around his head like a tiny personal cloud. Despite his fingerless gloves and thick wool tunic, he still felt the cold settling into his joints as he worked his skinning knife free of its sheath slung from his belt, bright metal glinting silver in the pale moonlight. Before him lay the carcass of perhaps the most beautiful stag the hunter had ever laid eyes on, its pristine white fur free of blemish or spot save for the line of bright blood trickling from the arrow shaft in its chest. The shot had been a clean one, killing the stag instantly as the arrow sank into its heart, felling the creature with barely a sound.<p>

_One of my best kills to date,_ he smiled to himself and took a moment to marvel at the creature who had inexplicably stumbled into his hunting ground. The stag was much larger than a normal deer, two or three times what most bucks grow to become, with perhaps the single most impressive set of antlers ever seen on any animal. He counted at least fifteen bone-white tines all free of velvet and wickedly sharp. The antlers alone would have made an envious trophy, but he wasn't here to hunt solely for pleasure. Well, that wasn't entirely true. He'd allowed himself to be goaded into the woods during Yule— breaking tradition and committing a dark taboo in the eyes of his elders— and sought to bring back the largest buck he could find.

_I certainly came through on that end. This should shut Sven up for months, _he thought with a proud smile; patting the still creature with an appreciative hand while imagining the stunned look on his best friend's face when he returned pulling his sled weighed down with enough meat to last his family well through winter. A brief, pensive frown managed to pull at the corner of his lips as he remembered the way he'd left the hunting lodge some hours ago before the sun had set, heading out into the forest while toeing his sled behind him. Pabbie had clung to the wood of the doorframe with withered hands, watching his grandson break years of tradition all because of a bet and too much mead.

"You know the laws, Kristoff!" his grandfather had called, lacking the strength to chase after him. "We mustn't enter the forest at Yule. It's not our place!"

Kristoff had waved a hand at him, still fairly drunk, and tottered into the trees, determined to win the bet and shut his leering friend up for good. Still, Pabbie's warning stuck in his mind like a thorn and no amount of concentration or wistful thinking could dislodge it. It wasn't until the stag had wandered into the shallow clearing that Kristoff's head had cleared for the first time that night, his arrow flying true.

Shaking his head to dislodge the dogging memories, he was about to set to work field dressing the beast, hoping to get done before the smell of blood lured any stray packs of wolves or pre-hibernation bears to the area, when the hairs on the back of his neck suddenly prickled. Going immediately still, Kristoff raised his head and scanned the trees around him, ears open for any telltale sounds of approaching predators. Years of hunting in all seasons had sharpened his senses and left him with a heightened awareness of the forest and the energy that coursed through it, and what that energy was telling him now was that he was being watched. Exhaling a cloud of vapor, he turned slowly in place, grateful for the pools of moonlight dotting the snow covered ground. It might have cast long shadows but it did provide enough light so that he could clearly see between the thick tree trunks into the forest beyond. He counted to a hundred three times, sharp brown eyes flicking from one trunk to the other as he searched for any signs of trouble.

Not spotting any signs of close predators but still unable to shake the uneasy feeling nestled between his shoulder blades, Kristoff turned back to the deer, pushing his messy blond hair out of his face, and froze. Something tall slid around a tree no more than ten feet from him without raising so much as a shuffling rustle as it moved through the shin deep snow. On his feet in an instant, Kristoff brandished his knife, heart leaping into his throat. The only thing that large was a bear, but he'd not heard the telltale grunting and panting as it approached or its lumbering footsteps. No, this was something else, something beyond him, and the uneasy feeling squirming around in his stomach slowly began to grow. Realizing he might need more than just a knife to defend himself, the hunter sheathed his weapon and reached for his witch-elm bow, notching an arrow, broad chest and shoulders corded as he held the bow at draw.

"I know you're there!" he called into the trees, fighting to keep his voice level. "Come out or be on your way! I am in no mood for games!"

He waited for a span of seconds and would have waited more had whatever he'd called out to not chosen to answer his challenge. The hunter merely blinked once, eyes still focused in the same direction, and the figure was suddenly there, standing no more than ten feet ahead of him next to a gnarled oak tree. Kristoff felt his heart freeze in his chest, his bow forgotten as his mouth fell open in terrified shock. Within the shafts of moonlight he could make out the unmistakable silhouette of a truly massive creature, well over eight feet, with a set of unnatural antlers settled on either side of the figure's shaggy head. Instinct driving him to action, the hunter pressed the belly of his bow forward into a full draw and loosed his arrow with a tight thrum. The shot was dead-on accurate and would have taken the creature right between the eyes had the arrow not shuddered to a stop in mid-flight and fallen to the ground, useless. Stepping forward, the creature canted its head and uttered a single word that rippled through the air like heat haze rising off a hot rock. Kristoff felt something brush against his body, feather light fingers of—something—tickling the bare flesh of his face and neck before he was yanked to his knees with such force he thought his bones would shatter.

Run, that's what his instincts shrieked at him to do. Run until his lungs burned; run until his legs gave out; run until his feet bled, so long as he was as far from the creature and its dark powers as possible. But while his instincts screamed at him to flee, Kristoff's body wouldn't respond, muscles locked in place by powerful forces as if he'd been shackled to the frozen earth. The invisible force that had brought him to his knees bent him forward until he was on all-fours, hands sinking into the freezing snow. Forced to stare down at the snow, he could hear the faint, near inaudible sound of light footsteps in the snow coming towards him, causing another wave of terror to arc through him.

"Please," he choked, fighting against his paralysis, corded muscles straining. "Please, whatever you are, don't do this! I'll leave, I swear it!"

"You should have never entered my forest in the first place," a voice like rumbling thunder growled, power dripping from every syllable.

"Please, I meant no disrespect!"

"Disrespect?" the voice questions, growl pitching deeper until the hunter realized whatever was with him in the trees was actually growling. Rough hands dug into his shoulder length blond hair and hauled him to his feet, paralysis suddenly disappearing. A thrill worked through him as he felt mobility return to his limbs, but Kristoff was unable to do anything aside from going where guided. A second hand closed around his throat and pinned him against a nearby tree with such force the breath was driven from his lungs as the rough bark scraped through his thick tunic.

"The disrespect you paid me was stepping foot into my forest during the time of day-dark, you filthy human!" the creature raged, power shaking snow from the tree boughs above. "What you've done, the life you took, is unforgivable!"

Teeth gritted, Kristoff held off for as long as possible but eventually found his curiosity too much to wrestle down. Hesitantly, he cracked open his eyes and realized his mistake a second too late, for once the creature holding him caught a glimpse of the hunter's light brown eyes he had Kristoff snared. Power surged through him and forced his eyelids apart, terrified brown irises captured by the depthless void of the Forest Lord's pitch-black eyes. No whites resided in the creature's rage filled stare, only darkness from edge to edge like shinning back obsidian.

Hand untangling from the hunter's hair, the Forest Lord held something up in the moonlight, and Kristoff caught the distinctive glint of a metal arrowhead slicked with gore. He recognized it instantly as his own and swallowed hard around the fingers digging into his throat. The Forest Lord waved it in front of him one more time in a taunting gesture before burying it in his side with a vicious snarl, breaking the shaft away so that the arrowhead was imbedded in the hunter's flesh. Kristoff would have screamed had the creature not tightened his grip, silencing his cries.

"A servant you took, so a servant I will make. With iron and blood, I bind you," he heard the creature say. Then it uttered one more snarled word in an unknown language and the spell took hold, dragging Kristoff under like a rip current.

Sudden disorientation robbed him of all his senses as torturous pain ignited within his skull and spread outward like an all-consuming inferno. All thoughts of reason and sanity fled from Kristoff's mind as he screamed his agony for all of creation to hear until his lungs were empty of air. Blind with the desperation to retreat from the pain, adrenaline suddenly surged through his veins. Summoning all the reserved strength he had, Kristoff shoved away from the Forest Lord and took off in whatever direction was in front of him, feet hardly finding purchase. The air he dragged into his lungs was somehow made ruthlessly cold by his terror, burning his throat as he struggled to breathe around the mounting panic. Choosing a path at random, he fought to maintain his balance and stumbled into the thick underbrush, pulse surging like white-water in his ears. He could still hear the creature's voice echoing in his head, the sheer audacious power put into a single word threatening to rip apart his consciousness and sanity in one swipe.

Running blind, Kristoff stumbled along for a handful of seconds before collapsing to his knees in the shin deep snow, the fire radiating from either side of his forehead enough to wring tears from his eyes. He gnashed his teeth and groaned, the heels of his palms pressed firmly against his forehead in an attempt to forestall whatever change he felt his body succumbing to. Doubled in half, Kristoff pressed his face into his hands, screaming into his fingers as the thin skin of his forehead suddenly split, blood running in red sheets down his face and staining the pristine snow like fallen rose petals much like the blood of the white stag.

"It was a mistake!" he roared at the forest; at the creature he could still feel watching him from the trees. "Please, it was just a mistake. I didn't mean any disrespect. Please, don't do this!"

"A life for a life," the Forest Lord replied in a voice that came from all directions at once. "You took my servant, human. Now you will take his place."

A sudden and merciless force struck him in the forehead like a hammer punching upward through the snow, arching him backwards in a spectacular spray of blood and glittering silver ice. The antlers sprang free of his temples with an audible pop, boney fingers growing larger with each passing second, tines spreading like bone-white thorns. He rolled over and vomited twice.

Panting through the pain, Kristoff lay on his back staring up at a beautifully star dusted sky he knew he could be enjoying back in the safety of the hunting lodge with his friends and family. He'd be listening to Grand Pabbie tell his stories right now, weaving dark tales of the dangers of the forest Kristoff had blatantly ignored. He'd be drinking mead with his best friend Sven whose wandering eye usually earned him a firm slap from whatever serving girl he was gawking at, and whose goading had eventually pushed him into breaking tradition and entering the forest to hunt at Yule. He'd be sitting next to the Yule fire enjoying the feast, warm and safe and not laying at the mercy of a vengeful forest spirit. Yet here he was instead, forcing back choked sobs as his world crumbled to dust all because of one misplaced arrow and his inability to listen to his elders. A deep part of himself hoped this was just a sick dream brought on by consuming too much mead, but he knew better. Everything happening to him was shockingly and inescapably real. A lone sob slipped past his blood speckled lips, shattering the silence but not the spell working into his body. Already he could feel the changes setting in: every joint, bone, ligament, and muscle quivering as if plagued by a horde of slithering serpents.

"Please," he tried one more time, voice laden with sincere apology. "It was just a mistake. I didn't mean to kill your servant."

"A mistake that you will rectify," the Forest Lord replied in its weird baritone voice devoid of anything that could mark it as human, "and that you will dwell on for years to come."

He saw the creature one last time before the pain returned and his body convulsed, bones breaking and reforming, muscles ripping and repairing into an entirely new shape that no human was ever meant to take. Through the blurriness of his tears, Kristoff saw the eight foot silhouette of the Forest Lord standing no more than fifty feet away, massive antlers framed by the soft moonlight, watching him with impassive coolness from the tree-line. Even in the moonlight, he could make out the glint of solid black eyes; eyes which very much looked as his eyes did now as the last few parts that had made Kristoff human disintegrated, his life as he'd known it grinding to an abrupt and painful end.

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><p><strong>AN:** First off, thank for reading! I hope you enjoyed the beginning to what I hope will be a pretty interesting ride. Now to the meat of the issue. For those of you who follow me on tumblr, I am still in need of an editor to help me with this fic. If you are seriously interested please message me here on FFN or on tumblr. As it stands, I have two editors, but with school and responsibilities I'm not certain how long that will remain. So if you're interested and can take editing seriously please feel free to shoot me a message.


	2. Chapter 1

**A/N: **So here we go, the first official chapter. Definitely moving a bit more slowly on this piece than I did with FTFTIN. For those of you who might still wonder, yes, this is still a Kristanna piece with an fair bit of Snow Sisters. Have to build the world first and give some backstory, so bare with me. We'll be jumping into this tale headfirst =)

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><p>"Anna! We need to get back to the caravan! Mama and Papa are going to get angry if we make them wait!" nine-year old Elsa shouted into the listening trees, feeling her irritation quickly banking into anger the longer her sister hid from her. Wiping sweat from her brow with the back of her hand, she tightened the leather thong holding her platinum hair back in a secure ponytail. Shifting anxiously from foot to foot, she could feel her plain purple jumper sticking to her back and felt her frown deepening. If there was one thing Elsa disliked more than having to chase after her sister it was sweating for no reason. Chores were one thing, helping her father with his invention another, but stuck in the forest, damp hair clinging to her face and clothes sticking to her skin, just made her irritably uncomfortable.<p>

The day had turned out to be a hot one, heat haze rising off the land in rippling waves, the air thick with moisture. They'd been on the road for a week now and the weather, though ungodly hot most afternoons, had held up, but it appeared their luck was about to run out. As the caravan of five wagons crested one more of the countless hills wrinkling the countryside, they'd spotted the first cluster of thunderheads off in the distance, dark coils of clouds marching steadily towards them like sky giants preparing to do battle with the heavens. Elsa's father, Agdar Erfinder, had decided to not risk the impending weather and called a stop, leading his cart and the three others following to a cluster of oak trees close the road where the horses could be watered and given rest until the weather passed them by. It was a risky gamble, one that their escort from the city, a tall, dark-skinned merchant who went by the name of Bale, wasn't happy to participate in, but Agdar was adamant and his mind couldn't be changed. So the caravan pulled to a stop and the wagons arranged in a tight circle, allowing for a brief rest and a chance for everyone to stretch their legs while a late afternoon meal was prepared.

Anna had practically lunged at the chance to run around, her body a boundless supply of energy. She'd bounced around the campsite, speaking ceaselessly to the other wagon drivers and climbing on everything, until her mother tired of her constantly being underfoot and shooed her away with instructions to play elsewhere while lunch was prepared in a fat-belly iron cook pot over a low orange fire. Elsa, seeing the trouble her little sister was causing, had reluctantly set aside the clock her father had given her to disassemble and allowed her sister choose a game to play. It was a decision she was now regretting. In typical little sister fashion, the six-year old eagerly picked the only game where she could run into the forest and make her older sister chase after her. Usually Elsa was fine with hide-and-seek but they were camped next to an unfamiliar forest in an unfamiliar country, and her father's words kept coming back to her as she stomped further into the trees.

"There is danger beneath the canapé, dear one. Though the forest may look inviting it holds more mysteries and horrors than any of your mother's books. So never stray from the path. Always keep the road under your feet and your camp at your."

"Wish he'd make Anna listen to his advice instead of letting her get away with everything," Elsa muttered while rubbing her bare shoulder uneasily, trying to make certain she always kept camp at her back.

"_Anna_!" she called, tilting her head back and shouting as loudly as she could, hands cupped on either side of her mouth for added volume. Her voice echoed through the tall oak and maple forest, rebounding again and again until it eventually faded into nothingness. For a moment the blonde stood still and listened, head slightly cocked in an effort to catch the slightest sound her sister might make while trying to remain hidden or shuffling through the underbrush. As small as she might be Anna wasn't the stealthiest player of hide-and-seek, a fact Elsa hoped would play in her favor while she searched for her. When nothing more interesting reached her ears other than the gentle rustle of hot wind moving through the tree boughs and boundless underbrush, she sighed irritably and wondered, not for the first time, why little sisters were so annoying.

Sometimes being the eldest was the hardest thing in her nine-year old world. Elsa always had to be the responsible one; always had to keep an eye on her sister; always had to do more chores and lessons while Anna got to play with dolls or help Mama in the library or the garden. It wasn't that her mother and father treated her little sister better than her, the sisters were equal in their parents' eyes, but younger children were oftentimes allowed more comforts and leeway than their elder siblings. That was an irksome fact Elsa knew she just had to swallow. Sometimes though, late at night while lying awake in her bed while sleep yet again alluded her, Elsa wondered what it would be like to be an only child. Some days the thought made her achingly sad. She did love Anna, even if she was a brat sometimes. But some days, like the one she was having today, it seemed like a sweet dream.

"Fine!" Elsa shouted angrily, small hands balled into tight fists and shoulders bunched. "I'm going to leave you here for the trolls to eat, you just see!"

When that didn't elicit a response, Elsa growled, turned sharply on her heels, and began stalking back towards the road, simmering anger making her cheeks flush with color. But she didn't walk more than twenty feet when she felt a cold kind of dread trickle down her spine and suddenly stopped.

_What if something happened to her?_ she wondered, absentmindedly rubbing her arm. _What if she fell and hit her head and can't hear me because she's unconscious? What if…_ Elsa swallowed hard and felt her stomach do a nauseous flip. _What if someone's taken her?_

A sudden and painful burst of fear bloomed in her chest that made her go cold from head to toe. Suddenly the tranquil forest wasn't so peaceful, the shadows growing longer and deeper, the trees growing taller and more foreboding with each ragged breath Elsa dragged in. Turning in a tight circle, the blonde searched frantically for any sign of her sister, trying to catch a glimpse of her telltale red hair amongst the green and brown foliage.

"ANNA!" she screamed, feeling her heart slamming behind her ribs. Elsa was just about to run back to the caravan and get her father when something grabbed her from behind, driving the air from her lungs as she shrieked in terror and spun. Eyes wild with fright, she stared down at her sister, hands around her stomach as she doubled over struggling to breathe around her giggle-fit.

"Got…you!"

"Oh my sweet god, Anna what the hell is wrong with you?!" Elsa demanded, anger and relief jockeying for control. She eventually decided on anger, a thunderous scowl creasing her brow as lightning flashed in her cerulean blue eyes. Her little sister recovered from her giggle-fit, hiccupping as tears rolled down her round face.

"Oooohhhh," the red-faced, redhead chided in that special way young children did when someone did something wrong, pointing at her livid sister and stretching out her words, "you said a grown-up swear."

"That's because you scared me!" Elsa shouted back, feeling her face flush again with both shame and pride. She'd used an adult swear just like the ones her father muttered while working on his inventions. It made her feel grown up and important, but she knew if her sister tattled on her she'd get a smack and probably lose privileges. And with another three days until they reached their new home, Elsa knew she wouldn't make the journey without going mad if she didn't have something to do with her hands.

"I'm gonna tell Mama," Anna teased in a sing-song voice, rocking onto her back and rolling around in the freshly fallen leaves, twigs and small branches tangling in her stubby pigtails and sticking to her blue jumper.

"Then I'll tell her you ran off into the woods alone and hid from me. You know we're not supposed to play this deep in any forest, especially a new one," Elsa said tersely, taking her sister roughly by the hand and practically dragging her back towards the caravan.

"Elsa, no!" Anna suddenly cried, struggling to get away. "I wasn't hiding, I found something!"

"No more games today, Anna. We're going back to Mama and Papa," the blonde snapped, setting a punishing pace that her little sister's tiny legs had to struggle to match.

"It's not a game, its real!" Anna insisted tugging hard on her sister's grip. "I found a castle!"

"Mama said there weren't any kings or royals or anything around these parts, so I know you're lying."

"I'm not lying! I really saw one."

"And I know you didn't, now come on."

Face scrunching in a deep, obstinate scowl, Anna employed one of her patented get-away-from-older-sibling techniques by wedging her thumb just under the webbing of her sister's thumb and forefinger and slipping her hand free. She fell backwards with a muffled thump, legs splayed out in front of her but quickly scrambled to her feet when Elsa rounded on her.

"Anna, no! We're going back. You've had your fun."

"Not until I show you I'm not lying!" the six-year old shouted and took off running in the opposite direction, her sister calling after her.

Unwilling to let the redhead out of her sight, Elsa hesitated for a few heartbeats before following, though the unease tingling under her skin only seemed to grow in intensity the farther from camp they went. Anna, despite being a short little thing, was lithe and deceptively fast, darting through the trees with purpose in her strides. Elsa lost sight of her twice as the land rose and fell around them like ocean tides, but she managed to catch up by breaking out into a flat out run and scaling the steep rises on all fours, words escaping her as she focused on keeping Anna in her sights and breathing in as much hot air as possible. After three or so minutes the forest thinned considerably and eventually opened into a wide, circular clearing big enough neither girl could see to the other end without squinting. Anna slowed and stopped next to a gnarled, knobby oak tree, sweat pouring down her red face. She looked very pleased with herself as she cast a glance over her shoulder at her sister as she jogged up beside her, eyes wide. Whatever sharp rebuke Elsa had for her sibling slipped from her lips as she stared up at the imposing structure before her, mouth falling open in awed shock.

It wasn't so much a castle as it was a ruin of one; the once high stone parapets, inner walls and soaring towers crumbled to near dust revealing the bones and inner archways of a structure that was slowly being reclaimed by the forest. It was clear the castle had once been an imposing fortress of dark stone and elegant masonry that could still be glimpsed through the veil of vines and moss, its foundation larger than many villages or hovels that dotted the countryside. Now, however, Mother Nature and the slow march of time had begun reclaiming what was originally hers. Vines and moss grew everywhere, creeping across the weathered stone like searching green fingers, their leaves and colorful flowers impossibly vibrant in the bright sunlight. But it wasn't necessarily the castle itself that commanded the girls' attention but rather the absolutely massive tree growing through the center of the ruin, its canapé so large it nearly stretched the entire circumference of the decimated structure. It was impossible to determine what family the tree belong to; though Elsa suspected it lay somewhere within the oak and maple family judging how the trunk look and what little of the leaves she could glimpse at a distance.

"I told you I found a castle!" Anna grinned smugly as she pushed off the tree and began approaching the imposing structure, walking through the channel of tall grass that ringed the castle like a fifty-yard moat.

"I guess you really did— hey wait! Where are you going?!"

"I wanna see if there's a king inside," the redhead laughed, stretching out her hands and letting the soft chaffs of grass tickle her palms. A strong gust of wind, oddly cooler than the stifling air around them, rolled into the clearing, teasing through the girls' hair and making the grass sigh and swish under its touch. If they listened hard enough it almost sounded like voices were whispering to them, a fact that made the older girl even more nervous.

"There isn't a king in there, Anna!" Elsa called, jogging to once again catch up. As the shadow of the ruin fell over them, she warred with herself, torn between physically slinging her sister over her shoulder and going back to the caravan or following the redhead into an unknown adventure. The uneasy feeling buzzing between her shoulder blades still hasn't left her in peace and only seemed to intensify the closer to the ruin they got, but curiosity was quickly overriding natural caution. What could be inside? Would they find more ruin or maybe some kind of treasure? Elsa knew no king resided here, but how often would an opportunity like this present itself? Regardless of her nervousness, she pushed it aside for the moment and fell into step beside her sister, gaze drawn up to the still imposing crumbling walls.

"I bet there's a fairy king inside, just like in Mama's books," Anna was saying excitedly, gazing up at the swaying branches of the tree above with naked fascination in her bright blue eyes. "Maybe he'll give us a wish! We could wish for Papa's inventions to work so we can go back to Arendelle!"

"You don't want any wishes from a fairy," Elsa mumbled, sharp eyes flicking from one pool of shadow to the next as they emerged from the grassy moat and started ascending a pile of shifting gravel towards a yawning archway. "There's always a price to pay for fairy wishes. Plus, Papa wanted to move to the country so he could work in private."

"No, he left because of the bad people," Anna argued, and Elsa could see the telltale flush of stubborn anger in her little sister's cheeks.

The family's move and the reason behind it had been hard for the little redhead to fully grasp, and more than one tantrum had been thrown after their father's announcement that they were moving. Anna had loved their home in Arendelle, a cozy shophouse nestled in the heart of the bustling city with a big glass storefront and quaint garden in their fenced-in back yard. She had loved tottering down the creaky staircase to spy on the customers visiting the shop and watch her father go about his repairs or quiet tinkering. He made a comfortable living repairing clocks, but his true passion had always been invention, and it was his inventions and their growing popularity that eventually lead him to uproot his family and move away from the city. Elsa had originally been nervous about replanting herself somewhere new, but so long as she was near her parents, her father in particular, she knew she'd adjust in time. Anna, however, was far more reluctant to leave what few friends she'd made and the comfortable familiarity of the city. Despite her mother's best efforts she'd put up a fight until the last crate had been loaded into the cart and they were underway, relegating herself to scowling bouts of brooding silence for most of the journey. It had only been Elsa's near constant presence and attempts at cheering her little sister up that had eventually lifted the little redhead's spirits. Still, Anna was quick to rebuff any attempt at reasonable explanations as to why she and her family were moving, opting to believe it was the fault of the "bad men".

"Papa also wanted to work in peace," Elsa sighed, knowing she wouldn't be able to talk any sense into the six-year old. A flush of shame worked into her cheeks as she recalled the second reason they'd left the city. It had been her mother's decision not to tell Anna until she was older, but they had left not only so their father could work in peace but so their eldest could heal properly. The physicians in the city had been boggled by Elsa's sudden and reoccurring bouts of illness. She'd come down with a rattling cough a little over a year ago that could manifest into crippling bouts of fever, dizziness, and choking coughs at a moment's notice. The physician had suggested that a remedy could be found in clean air and quiet living, which only seemed to accelerate the family's decision to move to the country. Elsa hadn't had an episode in almost six months, leading her and her family to believe that there might have just been some wisdom in the physician's words.

"Papa could work in peace in the city! The bad men made him move!"

"Okay, okay, it was the bad men," Elsa conceded, hands up in surrender.

They passed under the arch, hand in hand, and suddenly pulled up short, standing in awed wonder at the fantastical world that rose up around them like a fairytale come to life. In every direction they saw what could only be described as majestic ruin, layers upon layers of moss-choked stone stacked atop lines of mortar to form the castle's inner skeleton. It appeared they'd entered into a hall or an old throne room, half the ceiling laying in jagged fractures on the floor allowing streams of golden sunlight to pool around them. Mindful of the uneven floor, the girls cautiously moved forward, pressing deeper into the structure, wide eyes taking in as much detail as they could. Cracked stairways that lead to nowhere and dark, mysterious archways and winding hallways rose out of the uneven floor, ornate arms of hand-carved stone joining together to form doorways to what could very well have been other realms. Through numerous holes in the walls the girls could see lines of decorative windows that had once held precious scenes in stained glass—now bereft of art— nature replacing the manmade glass with a beauty all her own. Most of the second and third floor had been stripped away providing glimpsed snippets of sky and the thick canapé of the massive tree to show through the crumbling masonry. And atop everything, like a second earthen skin, lay a thick layer of rich green moss thick enough to discolor the stones.

"Are you sure about there not being a king?" Anna asked in a hushed whisper, her blue eyes so large it was a wonder they didn't pop out of her head.

"I'm…not really sure…" Elsa admitted in a whisper, her gaze pulled around the interior as she watched butterflies dance along the carpet of moss down a long stretch of hallway. She watched them for a time, unsure why they ensnared her attention so completely. They were just butterflies fluttering between purple crocuses, but there was a strange hypnotic quality to the dip and twirl of their wings that drew her in the longer she stared. Looking more closely, Elsa was shocked to discover that, no, these were not butterflies at all. Their bodies were far too slender and…_human_ looking. The thought was preposterous, but the longer she stared the less sure she became. She imagined that she could see little hairless heads atop human-like torsos turn towards her, tiny arms and legs with equally tiny hands and feet dexterously gripping the pedals.

"Hey, Anna come here and look at these," she laughed, dropping into a low squat and scooting forward, watching a few of the strange "butterflies" land on a crocus petal and crawl up the side. "I think these are fae—" Elsa turned to look back at her sister only to find she wasn't there. "Anna?" she called with a slight frown, vaguely aware that her voice didn't echo as it should.

Suddenly, the uneasy twinge between her shoulder blades returned with a vengeance, buzzing like a nest of hornets under her skin as the tranquil quiet took on an ominous tone. The hallway they'd stepped into wasn't all that long and looked as if it opened into another large chamber at the far left end, leading Elsa to believe the little redhead couldn't have gone far. But there was plenty of trouble someone as curious and fearless as Anna could get into, which only amplified Elsa's mounting anxiety. Shoulders hunched against her unease, she began walking down the hall, glancing into each archway and its adjoining room as she went. Finding her sister in none of them, the blonde was just about to check and see if she'd gone back outside when she heard a faint giggle that spun her around and sent her back towards the open chamber.

"Anna, honestly, no more games," Elsa scowled, ducking under a curtain of flowery vines that partially obscured the tall, ornate doorway. "This isn't the place to be…"

The older girl felt her jaw drop as she gazed up in awed amazement at the yawning expanse of the twenty foot ballroom. Back in some distant past, when humans once inhabited the castle rather than the wilds of nature, Elsa could easily imagine the grandeur such a room held and the spectacles it had seen. Even now there remained an echo of the beauty that once resided here. Gray and black marble pillars—carved to resemble different species of tree—ringed the room, their sprawling, leafless branches once supporting a domed glass ceiling that was no more. Between each pillar were enormously tall triangular windows that provided an almost panoramic view of the surrounding forest along with snippets of crumbling castle. An intricate tile mosaic unrolled under Elsa's feet, the scene lost to layers of dirt and the progression of time, but here and there she could glimpse interwoven knotwork and perhaps an animal or two. The rest of the room mirrored the castle, overtaken by nature and rapidly dilapidating. Enrapt by the sheer size of the room, it wasn't until she heard another faint giggle that her attention returned to the reason she'd entered the ballroom, but what Elsa saw and the ominous oddity of it sent her heart leaping into her throat.

Anna stood near the back of the circular chamber staring in enamored wonder at perhaps the most vibrantly red rose either of the sisters had ever seen. Its petals were like delicate drops of blood speckled with shimmering, crystalline dew. There was an ethereal, unearthly beauty to the flower that even captured Elsa's attention for a handful of seconds, drawing her in like a moth to a flame, but for her the spell was short lived. Edging farther into the room, the older girl thought the vines along the back wall had been moving at the behest of a gentle breeze blowing through the oversized windows, but there wasn't any wind in the ruin to stir them. It was curious watching them sway and jerk as if something hid behind them, which was impossible…wasn't it? There was a solid brick wall beneath, so nothing could…

Before Elsa could fully grasp the situation the sinewy plants bulged and buckled, silently pulling away from the wall as if possessing a mind of their own, vines twisting and writhing as they settled on a shape. The gripping fear locking her legs in place and stealing the breath from her lungs would have been enough to keep Elsa firmly rooted in place, had it not been for the heart stopping realization that Anna was reaching out to touch the rose, completely unaware of the now obvious trap about to snap shut around her. The blonde had just opened her mouth to utter a cry of warning when the little redhead's tiny fingers brushed the velvet petals, disrupting the speckles of dew, and sprung the trap.

A snarl of thorny vines leapt from the rose and wrapped around Anna's hand, sharp thorns biting into her soft flesh. The six-year old gave a startled shriek that faded into a weak moan before drifting into nothingness as her eyes rolled shut and she went suddenly limp, little body held suspended by her snared right arm. As the vines began to wind around her wrist and forearm, the once vibrant rose withered and fell away, revealing a face plucked from the depth of anyone's worst nightmare. Deep-set, glowing green eyes peered out from a vaguely canine face made entirely of overlapping, twisting vines and furry moss. The creature canted its head in an eerie echo of human curiosity as it regarded the child hanging slack in its vine-grip and the second one standing frozen a few feet away. A sick kind of glee crept into its face. With a jerk the creature continued to emerge from the wall, more plants and moss twisting and snapping as it took a shape that was strangely human despite its lupine features.

"Humans," the vine creature cooed in a voice like sticky honey, its face splitting in a toothy grin that showed off impossibly sharp teeth in a muzzle meant for a wolf. "It has been so long…"

Elsa didn't remember screaming her sister's name or rushing forward, all fear and uncertainty gone in a powerful rush of adrenaline. She may have been running directly towards a living nightmare but her eyes were solely fixed on Anna as she closed the distance at a desperate speed, hardly daring to breathe. The blonde managed to grab her limp sister, but for a terrifying moment the vines around Anna's arm wouldn't budge, holding the younger girl in place as if she were the rope in a cruel game of tug-of-war. Both arms wrapped around her waist, Elsa leaned back and dug her heels into the ground, a strained growl rolling in her throat as she pulled with all her might. The vines broke with an audible snap, unseen thorns tearing free of Anna's flesh and leaving deep, bloody gouges behind. The two fell backwards in a discombobulated tangle of limbs, but Elsa was quick to recover, scrambling to her feet despite the stinging cuts on her knees and elbows. She managed to pick Anna up and was prepared to run as fast as her skinny legs would carry her when something hard hit her in the shoulder and spun her like a top, the ground crashing up to meet her with an ugly crunch.

Disoriented, the irony tang of blood clinging to her tongue from where she'd bitten it, the nine-year old lay in a daze on her side, vision dimming and her ears ringing. She felt something shift and fought to stay awake, blinking furiously in order to clear her head. With a sudden rush she realized her sister's limp body was being dragged out from under her and immediately snapped to attention, body moving faster than her mind. Before any more vines would coil around Anna's leg, Elsa reached under her jumper to where the small knife lay hidden and pulled it free. Her father had given it to her at the start of the journey to their new home with express instructions to never use it unless her life depended on it.

"We're going to be traveling through rough lands, dear one," Agdar had explained with heavy severity the morning of their departure, kneeling before his eldest daughter with the sheathed knife in his hands. "Your mother and I will always be close, but there might come a time when we're not near and you need to protect yourself and your sister. Keep it hidden and use it like I've shown you only when necessary. Do you understand?"

Elsa had nodded slowly, taking the simple, straight-edged knife with trembling hands and secured it like her father had shown her under her clothes. She'd been unsure why he, or any father for that matter, would give his older daughter a weapon, but she couldn't be more thankful for his foresight. The blade felt oddly comfortable in her hand despite it being a little large for a nine-year old, its weight an added measure of security and dependability in an otherwise unpredictable and dangerous situation. The vine around Anna's ankle split with a crackling sizzle under the sharp edge, smoke rising in little curls from the severed end. She caught the heady scent of burnt wood and would have puzzled over it had the creature not howled in obvious pain and recoiled, staring at the smoldering vine with wide eyes. Standing to her full height, Elsa stood protectively over her sister, brandishing her knife in her dominant left hand with all the certainty a nine-year old could possess when facing down a nightmare.

"Don't you ever touch my sister again!" she screamed, a feral snarl twisting her lips as defiance squared her shoulders.

"Iron forged," the vine creature rumbled in a voice that now sounded like grinding stones, glancing from the knife flashing in the sunlight to the smoking vine with what could only be described as utter repulsion. Suddenly, it sank into a low crouch—spines like a porcupine rising off its back— hooked claws raking channels in the stone as its lips pealed back to reveal more razor sharp teeth. "_Iron forged_! You dare carry an iron forged weapon, you human piece of shit?!"

Elsa could sense the impending attack like a wave about to smash into her and braced with a wince just as the beast lunged with a tremendous, furious roar. Knife held rigidly before her, she knew it wouldn't be enough to fend off a creature such as this and was unable to keep from screwing her eyes tightly shut out of reflexive terror. But the impact she'd expected never came, and neither did the piercing pain of teeth sinking into flesh. Instead, Elsa felt a rush of air and the light brush of leaves on her face that prompted her to crack open her eyes in order to see what had forestalled her imminent death. What she saw she'd never be able to forget.

The vine creature crouched frozen inches from her, lupine face still set in a vicious snarl that turned her blood to ice. Instinctively she backed away, knife still brandished, and realized with another stomach-lurching twist that there was a second presence in the ballroom with them who had seemingly appeared out of thin air. Slowly, the second creature stood to an impossible height, body silhouetted by shafts of sunlight that glinted off its massive, multi-tined antlers. At first Elsa thought it was a man wearing a helmet—like the knights in the story book her mother often read to her— but when the thing turned to regard her with eyes as black as pitch any hope she harbored that this was a human come to the rescue shattered into thousands of sharp pieces. The stag-man regarded Elsa for a scant few seconds, mane of blondish-brown hair framing a face suspended between both man and stag, before digging his thick fingers into the scruff of the vine creature's neck and hauling it backwards where it began to struggle in earnest. Clawed hands ripped at the stag-man's forearm but no wounds appeared, though it seemed he was having trouble maintaining his grip as the creature continued to writhe and scream.

"Get…out…"

Elsa started at the surprisingly young sounding voice. It was hard to understand him at first, his words muddled despite the fact that it seemed he was straining to enunciate each syllable with forced precision. The vine creature suddenly broke free with a savage twist and lunged at the nine-year old again, and this time Elsa fell over her sister in an attempted to dodge a clawed hand that would have opened her throat from end to end.

"_Get out_!" the stag-man grunted, wrapping impressively muscular arms around the vine creature and physically lifting it off the ground like a bear grappling with a wolf.

Needing no more prompting, the blonde scooped up her little sister and backed away, fearing if she lifted her gaze from the struggling duo they would somehow turn their attacks on her. Anna faintly moaned in her arms when Elsa shifted her grip, whatever spell or poison put in her by the creeping vines dissipating.

"Elsa?" she asked in a groggy mumble, words heavily slurred. "What…what's going…on?"

"You're okay, Anna," the blonde soothed in a trembling voice, one arm under her sister's legs and the other crossed firmly over her back as she held her chest to chest. "I've got you. Just keep your eyes closed, okay? Don't look."

"Don't look at what?" The redhead turned before her sister could stop her, locking eyes with the stag-man struggling to hold the vine creature at bay. Oddly, she felt no fear when looking at him, merely the curiosity of a young girl who was unsure whether or not this was a dream.

"GET! OUT!"

Motes of dust shook loose from the fractured ceiling as the castle shook with the stag-man's roar. Elsa turned on her heels and fled from the castle as fast as her legs could carry her, while Anna peered groggily over her shoulder. She caught a few more glimpses of the struggling creatures before slipping back to sleep, head bouncing on her sister's shoulder, both girls unaware of the blood droplets spattering the ground as Elsa ran, waking blooms of crimson flowers in the soft green moss.

She didn't stop running until she'd reached the edge of the forest, the terror swirling around inside her so powerful she felt her chest begin to tighten with painful cramps that nearly brought her to her knees, a telltale sign her illness was about to flare again.

_No, not now. Please don't start up now._

A shuddering roar ripped through the air like canon fire, shaking the ground and tearing at a sky that had suddenly grown choked with swirling black clouds. It took Elsa a terrified moment to realize that what she was hearing was thunder, though the realization did little to calm her. Another clap rumbled in echo of the first, bringing with it a whirling gust of cold wind that pushed the young girl away from the castle with invisible hands. Shifting Anna from her chest to her back, Elsa pushed past the pain and dove into another flat-out run through the trees, headless of the branches whipping at her face or the brambles that snagged her jumper and bare legs. The once tranquil forest seemed transformed into a living creature as the storm descended from the heavens, grasping finger tangling in her hair and snaking around her ankles. She fought for every inch of ground as the burning pain scorching her chest and lungs increased, each step a battle all its own as she sought to continue towards her ultimate hope of safety. But in every undulating pool of shadow or twist of vine she saw the creatures that would remain forever engrained into her memory for years to come, pushing her beyond the brink of hysterics as thunder crackled overhead. She couldn't breathe and couldn't think, terror driving her like a horse under its master's whip; barely felt the tears rolling down her face as they mixed with the blood still beading down Anna's arm. It seemed like she'd been running for an eternity when Elsa finally broke free of the forest canapé just as her mother was cupping her hands over her mouth to call for them, wind whipping her skirt and hair. Idunn saw her and smiled as she shielded her eyes from the wind, but the warmth fell from her face as she took in the sight of her terrorized daughter carrying her unconscious sibling on her back.

"Mama," Elsa choked with tearful relief. She managed three more wobbly steps before the pain in her chest erupted into a blazing inferno that swept through her body like fire through dry grass. The nine-year old collapsed to her knees and pitched forward, her vision blackening at the edges just as the first flash of lightning lit the sky and the rain descended with a heavy fury. Distantly Elsa heard her mother screaming for her father and felt soft hands on her face and neck alongside a cold, driving rain. Her mother was calling her name and gently shaking her, but she lacked the energy to respond, the pain now radiating throughout her body intensifying until she was swallowed by it and fell into misty blackness.

Sometime later she awoke to the sound of steady rain pattering softly against canvas and the sound of someone humming. It was unclear how long she'd been unconscious, but it appeared that the brunt of the storm had moved on and taken the sun with it, casting the back of the covered wagon into thick shadow. Laying still for a few heartbeats, Elsa let herself adjust to the throbbing aches of sore joints, split skin, and an aching chest. She spread out her fingers and felt warm wool blankets under her palms, rich with the scent of her mother's perfume. Another blanket lay across her middle, this one soft and cool like most of her father's quilts tended to be. Rising fully out of the cloying haze of sleep, Elsa shifted and fractionally opened her eyes. In the blackness she caught the glint of eye shine as something shifted towards her and was suddenly back in the ruin staring at the beadle-black eye of the stag-man. Scrambled back with a terrified shriek, she frantically kicked away from the silhouette of the creature crouched next to her.

_Have to find Anna,_ she thought in a frantic rush, twisting away and attempting to get her feet under her._ Have to get away! No time! Need to find…_

Strong yet surprisingly gentle hands closed over her shoulders to hold her still, causing the blonde to struggle all the more. Another spark of pain ignited in her chest, robbing her of breath and turning her legs to jelly.

"Elsa, stop. It's me, it's me. You're alright, dear one. You're alright," her father soothed in a soft voice that was able to break through the terror-gripped scramble of his daughter's mind.

"Papa?" Elsa gasped in a quivering voice as she focused on him in the darkness, hand clutching her chest.

Agdar shuffled around and lit a small hanging lantern somewhere above them, illuminating the sleeping quarters in the back of one of the wagons in order to show his eldest all was well. The space was tight but cozy, the bed made up of feather-stuffed quilts situated amongst carefully stacked wooden crates. Elsa's breath suddenly hitched in her throat as she took in her surroundings, a relieved sob breaking past her barricade. Suddenly she couldn't keep the tears at bay and dove into her father's arms, sobbing into his shoulder and clinging to him with a desperate tightness.

"Hush little one, I'm here. You're safe." He soothed, holding her close. She cried for a long time, purging the fear from her body but unable to remove the memory of what she'd seen. Eventually she quieted enough that Agdar could settle her back onto the bed and ask her what happened, but if he'd hoped for an intelligent, or at the very least understandable, answer he wasn't going to get one tonight.

"It was a trap," Elsa kept repeating, listening to the rain sigh and patter around the wagons. "He was going to eat her, but I cut him and he smoked."

"Smoked?" Agdar frowned, leaning closer. "Elsa, where were you two?"

"He smoked because of the iron," she whispered, gaze starting to drift off as exhaustion quickly reaffirmed its grip. "Anna!" Elsa sat up with a start, grabbing her father's arm, eyes fever bright. "Where's Anna? She's hurt; it got her in the arm! She wouldn't wake up! Papa we have to—"

"It's okay, dear one. Your sister's asleep in the next carriage. She was asking about you a little while ago, but I told her you needed to rest. I saw the cuts on her arm and we got them cleaned up and bandaged."

Elsa nodded groggily and lay back down. Before she drifted off one final time she turned to her father and said with eerie clarity, "The stag-man saved us. He stopped the monster."

"Then I am grateful to this stag-man," Agdar smiled warmly, leaning down to kiss his daughter's forehead, aware that she'd already drifted back to sleep but speaking anyway. "And I'm grateful you and your sister came back to us safely. Thank you my brave, brave daughter."

For a while the inventor sat by his daughters side pondering the strangeness of her words. Elsa wasn't one to make up stories. She might have been only nine, but she was mature for her age. Anna, on the other hand, was famous for crafting stories that could match the ones her mother could tell, but the similarities between his daughters' fragmented tales were both eerie and frightening. Something had happened to them in the woods; something terrifyingly real. So the unsettling question remained: did she and Anna, in fact, come in contact with this "stag-man" or was it their minds trying to piece together a far more traumatic event? Whatever his worries might have been, Agdar knew he would find no answers to the mystery here on the road. Perhaps when they finally settled in their new home he'd take some time away from his inventions to investigate what his daughters had seen or thought they saw.

Sure that Elsa was sound asleep, the inventor carefully crawled out of the wagon but pulled up short when he caught the glint of metal out of the corner of his eye. Turning, he stared mutely at the small, straight-edged knife imbedded in the wood frame around the back opening of the wagon. He'd not found any knife on his daughter and assumed from her tale that she'd lost it in the woods, yet here it was, and to make matters even more strange there was a single purple crocus balanced with impossible precision on the edge of the blade.


	3. Chapter 2

She was having the dream again, pulled along by invisible hands through a strange and frightening world that made little sense. Anna traversed the well-worn, predetermined trail laid before her without really noticing, the landscapes changing every now and then into something vaguely familiar as the dream picked up speed. Here she'd see a blue shophouse with a wide glass front; there she'd see a string of wagons traveling down a dusty trail towards a seemingly endless horizon, but always, always the dream planted her at the threshold of an imposing forest. These strange visions started when she was six and had plagued the redhead throughout her childhood, teen years and into adulthood like a relentless bloodhound, always crouching at the back of her mind like a toad even during her waking hours. She could recall little in the beginning, but as the dream sped along she could pick up more and more detail until everything came into shockingly clear focus the moment she stepped foot into an imposing forest made entirely out of brambles.

Every tree and bough, bush and underbrush was a choking snarl of thorns that tore at her as she wove her way through them, mindful of her steps but unable to completely avoid getting her blue dress stuck in places. It was an endless, painful maze. Usually Anna would wander through the bramble forest for an undetermined period of time, the dusky sunset always shining at her back, casting long shadows across the thorny ground. Sometimes the shadows would move and become creatures, thorny vines twisting together to form monsters that reached out to grab her, hooked claws barely missing her as she tumbled along. Other times they were just shadows, and Anna preferred when the shadows were just shadows. Thankfully tonight they were just mundane pools of darkness littering the forest floor.

Eventually the forest would thin and she'd step into a spectacular, wrought-iron encircled courtyard dominated by perhaps the biggest tree she'd ever laid eyes on. At least fifteen grown men standing fingertip to fingertip could fit around the circumference of its base. Equally massive roots had torn through the manicured lawn and tile walkways, ripping furrows in the black earth as they plunged to an impossible depth, anchoring the tree firmly in place. Anna was always wary of the tree, unsure why something so naturally beautiful and unimaginably large could cause her such unease, but there was an alien quality to the plant that caused her to keep her distance, regardless. Well, as much of a distance her dream self could maintain. There were a few dreams where the redhead blinked after exiting the forest and found herself standing at the base of the roots, her eyes pulled to something imbedded in the trunk some thirty feet above. Her hands would move on their own accord and stretch to touch the rough brown bark even though something deep within her screamed at her to stop, but she was powerless against a secondary force beyond her willpower dragging her fingers ever closer to the trunk.

Tonight, however, Anna simply stood at a safe distance, head canted to one side in curious inquiry. Even at a distance she could see the object protruding from the tree trunk and wondered at it. If she moved the right way the redhead could catch the glint of a wet rust-color dribbling down from the protrusion as if the tree was bleeding. A soft breeze swept into the courtyard, carrying with it the distinctive smell of acrid smoke and burning tar, two scents completely out of place in the tranquil setting. Anna wrinkled her nose at the smell, idly wondering what was burning close enough that the wind could carry the smoke into the courtyard and sting her eyes. And within an instant the mood of the dream changed, taking on an ominous tone. Anna felt the hairs on the back of her neck prickle as something moved behind her, a second presence accompanying her at the base of the tree. At the same time the soft pastel sunset took on the pallor of bruised flesh, gentle yellow, oranges and blues darkening into blooms of red, purple, and black like ink mixed with oil. The foreboding presence was like a weight on her shoulders, unseen eyes boring into the back of her skull like a hot poker slowly being pushed under her skin. Swallowing hard, the redhead forced herself to remain staring straight ahead, knowing that if she turned she'd come face-to-face with whatever monster continuously stalked her dreams.

"Airmid," a voice like rolling thunder whispered, brushing the hair off Anna's shoulders and sending an involuntary shiver down her spine. The name was like an invocation, a monosyllabic summons that transcended her dream and pierced her to the very core. Anna could sense the power in the speaker's voice, the very air rippling around her like heat haze. Suddenly the creature behind her was before her, blocking the redhead's view of the tree with its bulk and blotting out the bruised sky above as the sunset was blanketed by a thick haze of smoke. Anna fought for as long as she could to keep from looking up at the figure, knowing what she'd find when she did. But in this dream she had no free will, and her fixed gaze was torn free and guided up to the antlered man, his face lost to shadow but his horns and eyes clearly visible in the darkness.

"Airmid," he whispered again and the smell of fire was suddenly accompanied by the roar of hungry flames and crumbling mortar as the flames neared, "tiocfaidh ár lá."

A few distant screams drifted into the courtyard on the wind, unintelligent cries of agony and lives being suddenly snuffed out ringing like a broken bell. Anna felt herself trembling, fear and panic rising inside her. The creature always whispered that phrase like a fervid prayer, hot breath—smelling of rich earth and wet leaves— washing across Anna's sweaty face. She knew her dream was coming to a close, the events unfolding like they had for years, and braced for the final moment. Something sharp tapped her abdomen just under her ribcage a half second before it was pushed through her skin and out the other side, blood gushing from her mouth as she sank to her knees, a wordless, anguished cry on her bloody lips. Distantly she could hear someone calling her name, and there was a vague familiarity to the voice. She focused on it in an attempt to drag herself away from the fiery torture of her broken dream body.

"Tiocfaidh ár lá," the Forest Lord whispered one more time as the dream began to shake loose, colors bleeding together as Anna's consciousness bled the vision dry and buoyed her back into reality.

"Anna! Anna get up, you're going to be late again!"

The redhead sat up with a startled jerk, struggling with the blankets tangled around her shoulders and torso. For a terrifying moment she thought she was back in the dream, the strong arms of the antlered creature holding her firmly in place. It wasn't until she slipped off the edge of her bed and landed with a jarring thud on the floor that Anna became fully awake and wrenched open her eyes. Face smashed against the cold hardwood, she groaned loudly as shafts of light streamed in through the break in her half-drawn curtains, illuminating the neat confines of her small room.

_Thank God my bed isn't higher off the floor or I'd have broken my nose so many times falling off it_, she though with an exhausted sigh. It was already clearly apparent that today just wasn't going to be a good day if her startled thrust out of sleep was any indication of how things would progress from this point on. She really did hate mornings. They had never and would never be her thing. Let her sister chase the sunrise. Pushing herself up on her elbow, Anna rubbed her face with her free hand, all the while wondering why Elsa had been screaming for her to get up. It couldn't be past seven in the…

"Shit!" she cursed and scrambled to her feet after glancing groggily at her wall clock. She should have been up an hour ago getting ready, and now she was late, _again_.

_I'm dead. So dead. I'm dead, I'm dead, I'm dead!_

Moving in a frantic rush, the redhead grabbed the first article of clothing she could get her hands on and hastily threw it over her head. Judging by the wrinkles and the faint smell of dust she'd picked up one of her previously worn, unwashed frocks but couldn't find the time to care as she grabbed at random a cloth bodice from her wardrobe along with a line of leather twine from a hook beside her door. She bolted down the stairs at a reckless speed, bare feet pounding the wood as she jumped to the first landing and swung around the tight corner. On the second stair she nearly tripped over a wicker basket full of gears and sprockets, hands flailing as she managed to grab ahold of the wooden banister and haul herself back upright while still continuing to descend the last few steps.

"Elsa! Why is your stuff on the stairs?!"

Not waiting on a reply, Anna dashed through the tiny living room, barely avoiding the low table, and headed for the kitchen, picking her way carefully around piles of debris and shop supplies littering the floor while hastily braiding her customary double braids. She was just about to open her mouth to berate her sister for leaving her things _everywhere_ when she suddenly pulled up short as a blast of stingingly hot air washed over her body. Blinking in obvious surprise, the redhead stepped past the threshold separating the living room from the kitchen and felt her mouth fall open, all thought of her tardiness evaporating.

"You're going to be late again," her sister commented without looking away from her work. "What happened to that clock I made you? You know the one that chimes when you're supposed to be getting up for work?"

Elsa stood in front of their hearth in a loose white top tucked into a pair of black ridding breeches, sleeves rolled up to her elbows and secured in place with a thong of leather buttoned to her shoulders. Her long, platinum hair was braided and secured in a loose bun at the base of her skull, the back of her ivory neck shining with sweat and streaks of soot. In one hand she clutched a wooden handle attached to a chain that she pulled on in steady intervals, the small bellows to her left whooshing and groaning as air was compressed out of the bladder, further heating the outrageously hot, glowing orange fire. In the other hand she held onto a long iron poker imbedded in the coals, twisting and turning it every now and then in order to gauge its temperature and readiness.

"_What are you doing?!_" Anna gaped in utter disbelief, sweat starting to prickle her brow as she attempted to move towards the hearth.

"Making a few new bolts and washers," Elsa answered, sharp cerulean blue eyes staring into the flames.

"I can see that! Why is our hearth suddenly your personal forge? You have one out back!"

The blond shrugged nonchalantly, flipping the piece of metal over in order to heat the poker evenly. "It's cold outside and having to walk between here and the barn gets tedious after your fifteenth trip. I can't seem to get the size right for the new bolts—"

"So you figured it would just be easier to work in here!?"

"Papa _did_ make the hearth forge-heat resistant. I really don't see what the issue is."

"Really? _Really?!_ Let's start by addressing the fact that you could bloody well burn our house down at any second! It's hot in here, Elsa. Even Olaf is hiding," the redhead argued, throwing a sympathetic glance at the shaggy white dog wedged under the table in the corner, big black eyes watching her as he panted heavily.

At this Elsa looked up, slender eyebrow quirked. "Of course it's hot…it's a forge. And Olaf is fine. You can tether him outside if you're that worried."

Unable to find the right words to describe the sheer disbelief rolling around inside her alongside utter frustration, Anna threw up her hands and went to the cupboard. "That's not the poin—" she paused to squint at her hand and was dismayed to find it covered in ash black soot. "Elsa, you're getting soot all over the house!"

"Anna, please. You've being overdramatic," Elsa sighed and rolled her eyes. "This house has seen its fair share of dirt and soot. It'll wash like it always does."

"Never like this! This is our _house_, Elsa, not your _workshop_."

"House, workshop, what's the difference?" The blond paused to wipe a coating of sweat from her brow with the back of her hand and glanced at the ornate clock on the wall above the kitchen sink. "You really are going to be exceptionally late."

Not for the first time in her life Anna had the almost uncontrollable urge to throttle her sister. This was just like Elsa: turning whatever space she could get her hands on into her personal workshop. At times the redhead wondered if her sister actually remembered she had a sibling who had to live in the same house as her, stumbling all over her neat piles of semi-finished inventions and repaired clocks, fighting to carve just a small sliver of space for herself out of the chaos that was…everything. For someone who said she had a compulsion about keeping things tidy, Anna was hard pressed to believe that Elsa knew where anything actually was.

"Where are we going to cook our food if you're forging all the time?" she groused unhappily as she grabbed her apron from the hook next to the door and shook it out.

"I wasn't aware that having this here meant we can no longer use it for cooking. My, whatever shall we do?" Then she added after removing the poker after one more bellows pull, "So what happened to your clock?"

"It…I…it just…" Frustrated beyond the point of civil words, Anna stalked over to the table where her sister had laid out a few day-old muffins and some now extremely soft butter for a meager breakfast. Despite her obvious irritation, the redhead knew what would happen if she told her sister she'd unhooked the chime in her wall clock the night before last so she could sleep in on Sunday and had forgotten to reattach it. Elsa would give her the older sister, eyebrow cocked, side-long glance that always reminded Anna of how a queen would look if witnessing something truly irritating. One-handed, the redhead hastily tied her bodice in place while stuffing a butter-slathered muffing in her mouth. It took her a few tries to get the laces threaded through the eyelets, but she managed and tied off a hasty knot. Bodice now secured, she tied her apron around her waist and grabbed her heavy cloak before pulling open the front door and nearly weeping at the burst of crisp, cold air. She stood for a moment just reveling in the chilly air and watery sun before the clock next to the door and the one next to Elsa both chimed the hour at the same time, dropping another stone into her stomach.

"Damn it, she's gonna kill me!" Anna hissed as she threw her cloak over her shoulders and stepped out onto the wide porch.

"You're nineteen, Anna. Madam Beokhandel wouldn't have a reason to if you'd just show up on time!" Elsa shouted after her as she placed the now glowing piece of iron on her anvil and began molding it into shape.

Anna fought down an acrid response and shut the door, muffling the high pinging sound of metal striking metal as she set off at a run towards town along the rutted dirt road. December mornings were usually a little overcast in this part of the country: heavy, snow laden clouds marching across a cobalt blue sky as they swept in from the mountains some ways off. The redhead's breath steamed in front of her as she ran, cold wind chapping her face and burning her lungs as she raced past the last few barren rows of harvested crops and into the town proper. Anna made decent time into the small, quaint-looking town of Sors, the ground under her eventually shifting from raw dirt into wide cobblestone streets that broke off in six different directions around an ornate fountain like the spokes of a wheel. Tall shops and multistory shophouses lined the streets in every direction, glass storefronts glinting in the morning sunlight as she sprinted along. Rounding a tight corner, she caught a glimpse of Kai, the owner of the local hunting lodge, unloading fresh barrels of ale and mead from a wagon across the circular courtyard and waved. The big man raised a hand in greeting and offered a smile before slinging a fairly massive keg over his broad shoulder and sauntering into the lodge.

Her place of work finally in sight, the breathless redhead leaned hard into her run and made a beeline from the first shop to the immediate left of the dormant fountain with a painted oval sign that read _Boekhandel Books_ hanging just above the glass storefront window. Stopping short of the frosted front door, Anna took a second to make herself presentable, smoothing out her wrinkled frock and skewed apron— drawing in a few calming breaths— before gingerly pushing open the door, careful not to jingle the bell. For just a brief moment she allowed herself the blissful fantasy that Madam Boekhandel wasn't in the shop despite the fact that the front door having been unlocked and the small wooden sign flipped to open. Creeping forward on the balls of her feet, she padded across the hardwood floor sitting area just inside the shop, steering clear of the creaky spots near the plush chairs and mahogany coffee table. Stepping around the glass-front counter, Anna fished in her apron for the keys to the case and the back room, preparing to begin her morning rituals around the shop, when a board creaked off in the stacks to her left and she froze.

"Late again, I see," came a clipped voice that made Anna's heart drop through her stomach as she gasped and turned. Madam Boekhandel made little sound as she emerged from the far end of a row of shelves to Anna's left, staring at the redhead over the rim of a stylish pair of bronze reading glasses with her beautiful and utterly hateful hazel eyes. Whenever Anna found herself caught by them she immediately felt such a crushing level of inferiority she had to fight the urge to shrink into the smallest, most compact form she could imagine and stay there; and today it was no better. In fact, it was worse.

"G-Good morning, Madam Boekhandel," the young girl stammered, ducking into a shallow curtsey as was required whenever greeting her employer.

"Twenty minutes late," the slender woman continued as if not hearing Anna's greeting, walking towards her with an easy gate that skillfully hid her simmering irritation. "Remind me again why I still employ your services?"

"I…um…I'm deeply sorry, Madam Boek—"

"Anna, pet," the book keeper cut in with a gusty sigh, setting the books she had in her arms gently down on the counter, "I do not wish to hear any of your excuses, and regardless, it was a rhetorical question. You have been late three times this month, and that simply will not do. I cannot keep waiting around the shop for my employee to show whenever she pleases. That is not how a business is run, my dear, and I will not stand for it."

Anna felt her cheeks redden and hung her head, hands folded in front of her apron. A part of her wanted to rail against the infuriating woman. Yes, it was her fault for being late, but for God's sake it was only by twenty minutes, and on a Monday! There wouldn't be any customers in the shop for another two hours at best, so why was it such a big deal? It wasn't like Madam Boekhandel couldn't handle things on her own for less than half an hour.

_And I'm not your damn "pet"!_ the redhead seethed.

For three years Anna had diligently worked for the book keeper, doing all she was asked and more— working late hours and many of her off days— and for three years the woman had insisted on calling her irritating pet names. It was more than just irritating and irksome, though, it was degrading. She was never just _Anna_ or _Miss. Erfinder_; oh no, she was always _dear _or _pet _or _love_, as if Anna didn't deserve or had to earn the right to be called by her actual name. As if, in the book keeper's eyes, she really was stations below her and was simply humored rather than respected. And if Anna dared to have the audacity to rebuke being called by her pet name Madam Boekhandel would simply laugh and say she was being too sensitive or completely ignore the gripe. So Anna had suffered with it and her less than meager wages for three years, dreaming of a moment when she would no longer need this job and never again have to suffer her employer's indignities.

However, the more analytical, less emotional, part of Anna's mind reminded her that this was Madam Boekhandel's business, and she could run it and treat her employees as she saw fit. Even in a good season there were very few jobs available in Sors, and since winter had finally settled over the countryside there were even less, so it was a blessing that Anna had anything at all. If Madam Boekhandel decided that she'd tired of Anna's tardiness—or even if she simply wanted a change of staff— the redhead would be hard-pressed to find anything now. So with great reluctance, because she really did want to put this persnickety quim in her place, Anna quelled her temper and sharp-tongued response under a thick blanket of forced compliance and made herself look as meek and mild as possible.

_Though if I keep this up for much longer I might just become meek and mild._

"I will be docking your pay for your time missed and require you to stay an extra hour, without pay, one day this week in order for you to get your necessary work done. Am I clear, pet?"

"Yes, ma'am," Anna mumbled, feeling another rock land in her stomach.

"Good. Now, be a dear and start uncrating the new shipment. You know where they are to be shelved. I've set a small crate of rare books behind the counter to be added to the glass case. Make sure you rotate out the oldest copies so I can send them back. After that you can dust the shelves and sweep the sitting area. And for God's sake be diligent. The last time you dusted you missed entire shelves," Madam Beokhandel instructed as she sashayed to the door, her full hips swinging from side to side like a pendulum as she walked.

Anna couldn't help but feel another wave of inadequacy arc through her. The book keeper was an unnaturally beautiful woman who didn't look a day over thirty despite being well into her late forties. Her long, auburn hair hung in seemingly perfect, gravity-defying ringlets to just below her shoulder blades, complementing her flawless, porcelain skin. She was a woman who could get away with wearing hardly any makeup, drifting on her unnatural beauty as if she were a goddess come to earth to grace humanity with her presence. And Anna hated her for it. Though she had never believe herself anywhere remotely beautiful— what with her gangly figure, ruddy freckle-dusted skin, red hair that oftentimes looked strawberry blonde in certain lights, and round face— Anna knew when a woman was blatantly flaunting her beauty for both attention and intimidation purposes, and it galled her.

"Am I forgetting anything?" Madam Boekhandel murmured to herself, tapping a slender, red-painted fingernail against her chin. "Ah, yes. Make certain you return the books you borrowed last week to their proper places and write them back into the inventory."

A fresh crackle of cold dread suddenly raced through Anna's veins, and she stiffened, stifling a very colorful curse under her breath. Madam Boekhandel caught the stricken look on her employees face and turned towards her, hazel eyes locking her in place.

"You've forgotten them again," she said, stating it as a fact rather than phrasing it as a question. Anna nodded stiffly, feeling her face flush with fresh embarrassment. Madam Boekhandel heaved a great sigh, pinching the bridge of her nose as if her employee's incompetence gave off a rank odor.

"How you remember to dress yourself in the morning is a wonder."

"I'm sorry, Madam. I had meant to grab them while rushing out of the house this morning."

"Because of oversleeping no less," the book keeper sighed again, the roll of her eyes almost audible. "Dear, if you are incapable to dragging yourself out of bed in the morning, perhaps you should think about possibly applying your services at the gentlemen's club on the other side of town. You're pretty enough," she said with an offhanded wave, "and you'd never have to get off your back. Just lay there and let the men do the work."

Anna felt her temper rising and grabbed handfuls of apron in order to keep from chucking the first thing she could get her hands on at the miserable sow. To even suggest that…to even _think_ it made the redhead want to become physically violent.

"Nevertheless, until my borrowed property is returned to me, your pay will be docked against each book checked out under your name."

"But Madam, that's what I make in two days!" Anna gasped, her face paling.

"Then perhaps this will be a lesson to you, pet," Madam Boekhandel said with a patronizingly sweet smile. "If you were prompt for work and remembered to bring back borrowed items you wouldn't be in this mess. As it is, I am late for an important meeting. Good day."

The devastated redhead watched the woman leave the shop and cross the street before disappearing down one of the side roads. For a long time Anna stood in frozen shock beside the counter, hands hanging limply at her side as she stared into nothing.

_Two days of pay…gone. Two whole days…_

She knew she should be feeling something, but for the moment there was only cold disbelief coiled dangerously around even colder dread nesting in her chest. Eventually the ice creeping around her heart thawed under the heat of sudden anger. With a roar, Anna spun and kicked the baseboard of the counter multiple times with as much force as her booted toes could manage, envisioning it was Madam Boekhandel's shin, or even more pleasant, her head. Two days' worth of work up in smoke all because she'd overslept; two days' worth of payment she wouldn't see again.

_Elsa is going to kill me,_ she thought morosely, laying over the counter and covering her head with her arms. She felt the hot prick of tears in her eyes and sniffed them back, swallowing around the lump in her throat. Despite their combined efforts, the sisters made very little money that they could call their own, floating on what Anna could earn working at the bookshop while Elsa sold her inventions and clock repairs. They saved where they could, cutting corners and stretching out the contents of their pantry to its limits some months, but they got by. Since Elsa was the eldest she was the one in charge of handling their combined incomes and would no doubt want to know why her sister's payment for the week was significantly less than it should be.

_Because I'm a horribly lazy person who's too scatterbrained for her own good,_ Anna grumbled, unable to shift the weight of growing despair off her shoulders. And to make matters worse, tomorrow was the anniversary. That remembered thought would have been enough to drive the redhead to her knees if she hadn't already braced herself against the counter, though a few tears did slip free and roll down her cheek.

Three years. Their parents' had been dead for three years now and the sting wasn't any better. And the worst part about it, the part that was viciously ironic, seemed to be that while everyone was getting into the holiday spirit, Elsa and Anna were stuck in mourning. It was one of the reasons the sisters didn't participate in many of the town's traditions and parties. And how could they? Days before the start of Yule their parents' wagon had been found by a group of woodsmen where it had been driven off the road not four miles from their home. They'd been coming home from an invention delivery in a neighboring city and had apparently attracted the attention of highwaymen. In the report given to the town constable, it appeared the husband and wife had put it a fair fight, but it hadn't been enough. Agdar had been found next to the cart, a crossbow bolt in his throat. Idunn had been discovered a few yards away in the woods, her body brutalized in a way that even made the woodsmen physically sick. A warrant had gone out for the arrest of the highwaymen responsible for the senseless and violent act, but there was little evidence of a trail and even less enthusiasm from the townsfolk to find the killers with it being the middle of winter and all. So the bodies were returned to their daughters and a small burial took place the following day on their property, most of the town turning up for the funeral, but otherwise forgot about the now parentless young girls living outside of town once the townsfolk returned to their warm homes and holiday cheer. Only a few offered to help the girls, Kai and his wife Gerda alongside a few of the woodsmen and Darrius, the town butcher. The rest went about their lives as if nothing had happened, a slight that Elsa was hard to forget and forgive while Anna tried to imagine that everything was alright. So it was left up to Elsa and Anna to pick up the pieces, alone, and forge a life for themselves in a world that seemed so much more cruel and colorless than it did while their parents' had been alive.

And here is was again, that cursed time of year. Anna would have liked to believe that she'd not noticed exactly what day it was when she'd scrambled awake this morning. She would have like to believe that her sudden, furious haste to leave the house was only brought on by the need to get to work on time. She would have liked to believe a lot of things, but frankly there were far too much honest truths in the world and she couldn't hide from them all. Not this week, and not with her sharp eyes. She knew exactly what day it was and hadn't failed to notice the red rims around Elsa's eyes or the sad set of her shoulders as she stared into the hearth fire. Obviously she'd been crying earlier that morning but had masked it enough not to alert her sister.

_But I did see them and did nothing. What kind of sister am I if I can't even comfort my own flesh and blood when she's hurting just as deeply as I am? What would you do, Mama? How would you be a better person?_ Then more sadly, she thought, _Why did you and Papa have to go so soon? We can't do this on our own._

Sighing heavily after quite a long time in silence, Anna decided that the best way to chase away the coiling sadness threatening to choke her into crippling tears was to start on her duties and work till she was finished. Elsa had her way of grieving and she had hers, so the redhead set to work uncrating the new books, pouring over the covers and thumbing through the contents of each volume with almost gleeful delight. She really did love books—the library which made up the majority of her room was evidence of that— and there wasn't a single thing on heaven or earth better than cracking open a freshly printed volume and inhaling the papery scent.

She worked through most of the morning uninterrupted: uncrating new books, straightening shelves, dusting, restocking, rotating the volumes in the glass case in front of the counter and generally keeping her hands busy. Every now and then a volume would catch her eye and Anna would find herself hungrily devouring as many pages as she could, her work forgotten for the moment as she stepped into another world. Elsa might have had the ability to create thing from the visions in her mind, but Anna could demolish a fairly sizable stack of books in a day and retain everything. She read almost anything, even going as far as skimming mathematic and scientific tomes, though those didn't capture her interest as much as they would her sister. Despite not being able to hold her interest as securely as works of fiction or the occasional botany book that came into the store, Anna still read them for their valuable information and the knowledge that she might need their information at some point in her life. Her favorite books, however—the ones she treasured the most—were the fairytales and poetry.

Anna had grown up hearing tales told to her by her mother. She and her mother would sit together by the fire, blankets wrapped snugly around their shoulders, and read stories to one another while Elsa and her father tinkered in the next room. The redhead's mother used to love the darker fairytales but saved those for stormy nights when the family could gather together around a low fire while Idunn read from the large tome that had been handed down to her from her mother and her mother's mother before that. So it was safe to say that whenever any new fairytale books came in, no matter their size or contents, Anna would snatch it up and devour it before the day was through.

Today, however, there was nothing that really jumped off the pages at her, a fact that was a little disappointing, but it was only the beginning of the week. Perhaps in the next shipment on Wednesday Anna would get some fresh reading material she could really sink her teeth into. Until then she set about finishing her chores, glancing every now and then out the large glass window and watching the people hustle past as a few stray flakes of snow descended from the flat gray sky above.

_I feel like a prisoner stuck in a glass cell_, she thought with a deflated sigh.

It was a week before the weeklong Yule celebration kicked off in Sors meaning the townsfolk were in a frenzy to stock up on last minute supplies. Already the town was undergoing its annual festival transformation as strings of garland were strung above doorways, wreaths were hung anywhere there was a flat surface, and the colors of red and green seem to ooze out from between every slat of wood and crack of mortar. Eventually the statue at the center of the fountain, which had undoubtedly frozen over by now, would be removed and a large pine tree would take its place, available for decorating by the townsfolk at the start of the Yule celebration. Despite the grim memories attached to this time of year, Anna still remembered the fun she and Elsa had with their parents celebrating Yule, and she secretly longed to begin practicing a few of her favorite traditions again. Elsa wouldn't go for it—she usually worked through the holiday at an almost fevered pace—but maybe Anna could join Kai and Gerda this year…or perhaps even Hans would celebrate with her.

_So long as his family isn't involved,_ Anna thought with a frown that lasted until her thoughts turned to Hans and a goofy smile pulled at the corner of her lips.

It was fairly well-known throughout Sors that Anna and Hans had been courting for quite some time but hadn't really become serious until two years ago. They'd become friends soon after the sisters moved into the house on the outskirts of town, all three of them playing and getting into mischief together on an almost daily basis. It had been Hans who'd shown them all the best places to hide or play or swim or climb in the surrounding countryside. He'd been a close friend to them both but always seemed to gravitate towards Anna and her towards him. As it usually was with young love, the redhead quickly discovered that her feelings towards Hans went beyond just normal friendship. The two had grown close, and that closeness only seemed to grow and blossom into a deep yearning when Hans went off to boarding school in the city for a few years. Every chance she got Anna would write him, and he would return her letters with clockwork punctuality until finally he'd come home.

But despite their closeness, after the death of her parents Anna withdrew from everything that she had once enjoyed, spending her days locked in her room or sitting senseless by the fire with her mother's storybook pressed to her chest. It was unclear whether or not Hans saw this withdraw as a slight against him personally, but he'd given her a wide berth and allowed her to grieve, though it had always bothered Anna that he'd not tried to help with the grieving process. Certainly Elsa saw this glaring distance and disapproved, but she wasn't in any emotional state to help her sister rekindle her relationship with their longtime friend. As it was, a year later, once the proper amount of grieving had been done and Anna could once again stand in a sunrise and actually smile, she'd sought to rekindle what she'd once had with Hans before her parents' death. It was slow going at first, a year apart revealing stark differences in the man she'd once imagined she could love, but Anna was willing to make things work.

At about eleven the first few customers of the day made their way into the shop, shaking snow from their coats and greeting Anna with warm smiles. The redhead knew most of the regulars by name and chatted with them as they browsed the new selections.

"The pickings are slim this week," old Mr. Clockcount said as he took a seat in one of the low leather chairs next to the potbelly stove, a small red book in hand. "Guess our lady, Mrs. Swivel-hips, hasn't taken the time to order anything worth reading."

Anna fought back a snort of laughter. Mr. Clockcount was one of those portly older gentlemen who could have a laugh at just about anything and often did. He was a jolly sort of fellow with a rotund stomach that stretched the buttons of his shirt to near bursting and a full mustache that he kept curled at the ends with wax. Oftentimes he could be seen absentmindedly playing with the ends as he pondered over a new tome or some piece of unintelligible political information, while puffing on his long-stem pipe. Though politics didn't interest Anna in the least, she did like to discuss with him some of the finer points of popular poetry or grumble quietly about her employer. Apparently, Madam Boekhandel wasn't as popular in certain circles as Anna had previously thought, and Mr. Clockcount seemed the least impressed by her. As often as he could he'd make japes about the woman and her insistent need to be called Madam.

"She never consults me about orders, so…" Anna shrugged helplessly, cracking another grin when Mr. Clockcount snorted and attempted to cross his legs, the buttons on his shirt close to springing free like musket balls while his belt cut uncomfortably into his stomach. If he noticed this it didn't seem to bother him.

"Never did have a lick of proper sense, that one. And I never understood why her husband let her open this shop in the first place. Granted, they had to make _some_ money after Mr. Boekhandel lost his position in the city, but still…putting his wife in charge of the family business?" he shook his head disapprovingly. "No offence meant, Miss Erfinder, but I've found the idea of women running their own businesses rather troublesome."

At this, Anna simply ducked her head, not wanting to engage in a possible argument with a patron to the bookshop. Mr. Clockcount was a good man, but his ideas about women in society were a bit…archaic.

_Thank God Elsa isn't here to hear him say that,_ the redhead though with a gusty sigh as she continued to stack new books in their proper places. _Fairly certain Mr. Clockcount would walk out of here without the use of his kneecaps._

The conversation about why the Boekhandel family had moved to Sors from the city was a sore topic and one Anna didn't want to be a part of. She'd never gotten it out of Hans why his family had moved to the country a few years before Elsa and Anna arrived. She'd been curious for a time, as most people in a small town often were when learning new information about neighbors, but any time she attempted to broach the subject she was either shot down immediately or the topic was changed. So after a while Anna stopped wondering and just let it be.

A few other patrons wandered into the shop as the day progressed. They didn't stay long, browsing the new selection, making a few purchases, but otherwise just killing time by the stove.

Luckily, Madam Boekhandel had ordered a fresh supply of wood for the potbelly stove that heated the building during winter to be delivered that morning. It allowed Anna a chance to chat with the Brenden, a local woodsman and hunter who frequented Sors whenever supplies of wood or meat were needed on short notice.

As usual, Brenden arrived around noon carrying a large stack of wood on his shoulder as he entered the shop. He was a fairly good looking man just a few years older than Anna, with close-cropped black hair and brown eyes. He stood half a head taller than most men his age or older, his physique deliciously toned from years of hard living and mean eating. The only off putting thing about Brenden was his large nose—malformed from a bad set when it had been broken some years ago— and the gap between his two front teeth. Aside from that, and the thin dusting of hair on his lower chin and neck, Anna found him quite appealing. Apparently the feeling was a mutual thing because whenever Brenden stopped in for a delivery he'd make time to talk with Anna.

"Afternoon, Miss Anna," Brenden beamed as he set the bundle of wood next to the stove. The shop was surprisingly empty of customers at the moment, a small lull between the lunch hours. "Got your wood delivery for the day."

"Wonderful, set it next to the stove and I'll stack the wood," Anna said with a smile as she stepped out from behind the counter.

"No need to dirty your hands, ma'am. I'll stack it for you."

"Brenden," the redhead frowned lightly, hands on her hips, "we do this dance every time you make a delivery. Just get the rest of the wood. I'm perfectly capable of stacking piles, plus it gives me something to do with my hands."

The woodsman flushed and ducked his head. "Of course, Miss Anna. Just don't want you straining yourself."

"Oh yes, because stacking wood is so much more strenuous than heaving around heavy leather books," Anna quipped with a smile that only grew larger the more flustered Brenden became.

He made three more trips out to his wagon in the snow, setting the securely tied bundles down next to the stove while Anna worked at putting the wood in the brass holders against the wall. They spoke in between trips, discussing the shift in the season and what it would mean for the hunters and trappers in the area. Apparently, this season had been a lean one, most of the regularly hunted animals moving deeper into the forest and staying well hidden.

"I don't know how to explain it, but it's real weird. Usually when we set out traps and snares we can fill our quotas within a day or two, but recently not a single trap has been sprung. Hell, there aren't even any tracks in the snow, pardon my language."

"Could it be because of over-hunting?"

"Nah, we rotate our hunting grounds for that reason exactly like what the farmers do with their crops."

"Maybe it's just the area? Or maybe some new predators have moved into the countryside?"

Brenden physically shivered despite standing next to the stove with a warm mug of the tea Anna had offered him after his last trip. "God above, I hope that's not the case. It's hard enough to hunt in the winter knowing them tree cats and bears are roaming around, but you add in something like wolves returning to the valley? No ma'am, that's bad news for a lot of people, me especially."

"Because wolves are attracted to the smell of blood and wounded prey," Anna said quietly, reciting something she'd read in a book recently about apex predators.

"Exactly. Though wolves haven't come into the valley since my great grandpap's time. Still, something's spooking the animals, and I'm not inclined to go looking for it."

It was a troubling bit of news, but Anna couldn't help but feel a flush of excitement. In the near thirteen years she'd lived on the outskirts of Sors only a few times had something like this happened. Usually it was a bear wandering too close to civilization and driving the animals off, but there had been an instance not four years ago when this exact thing had happened and there hadn't been any predator found. The animals in the forest around Sors had disappeared for nearly a year, even in the spring and summer months.

_I might have to read into this a little more._

"Well regardless of what's going on, please stay safe."

Brenden flushed and shifted, opening his mouth to say something when the sounds of heavy boots stamping in through the backdoor caused him to pause and look over Anna's shoulder. The redhead turned too, unsure why Madam Boekhandel was coming in through the back entrance. A moment later a tall young man in a long gray coat stepped into the bookshop, shaking snow from his short auburn hair and repositioning it with his fingers. He took one quick look around before his hazel eyes—so much like his mother's—settled on Brenden with a disapproving glare.

"Hans," Anna smiled.

"Good afternoon, love," he said with a thin smile of his own as he shrugged out of his coat and straightened his vest and the buttoned sleeves of his long-sleeved undershirt. "I thought I'd come by and keep you company while Mother was out of the shop." Then to Brenden he said, "Good afternoon, Master Woodsman. I trust the…logging is going well for you this season?"

"Fair enough," Brenden shrugged with an air of forced nonchalance. The two men regarded one another for the span of a few silent moments, a crackling tension brewing in the space between heartbeats like the onset of an electrical storm.

"Is there something else you needed, Master Woodsman?" Hans asked in a clipped tone, eyebrow arched.

"My payment, sir," Brenden replied tersely.

"Payment? Since when did we start paying the hired help?" Hans asked with a laugh as he put an arm around Anna's shoulders and kissed the side of her head. "Did you put him up to this?"

"Hans, please," Anna frowned, glancing between the two. She could see the line of pink under Brenden's eyes starting to turn red with anger.

"Oh come now, you must know I'm joking!" Hans said with a good natured laugh as he clapped the woodsman on the shoulder. "Get his payment would you, love, so that our friend here can be on his way."

Fighting back a sharp rebuke, Anna hustled back around the counter and grabbed a small leather pouch containing the woodsman's payment. She walked back around and gave it to him, flashing him an apologetic look that she was thankful Hans couldn't see.

"Thank you, Brenden," Anna nodded with a tight smile. "And be safe in the woods this season."

"I will, Miss Anna." The woodsman flicked a look over at Hans and added before leaving, "You do the same. Good day to you both."

"What is the matter with you?" Anna demanded the moment the woodsman was out of the building.

"Good to see you too, love," Hans smiled and pecked her on the cheek again. He leaned back with a frown and ran a finger over his lips, rubbing them together. "Why is there dirt in your hair?"

"Don't change the subject. That was incredibly rude what you just did to Brenden. Talking to him like he's no better than a common slave; Hans you're better than that."

"It was a joke."

"It was only funny for one of us."

Hans drew back and straightened, the amused look on his face disappearing. "My, it seems someone rose on the wrong side of the bed again."

"This isn't about me. You were rude to Brenden for no reason," Anna challenged, hands on her hips.

For half a heartbeat the book keeper's son stared down at the redhead, an unreadable look on his face. Anna felt the weight of his gaze settle over her shoulders but refused to lower her eyes. Eventually, though, she couldn't stand the pressure anymore and looked away, hating herself for giving in but just wanting the staring contest to end. After a moment Hans sighed and wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her close to him.

"I'm sorry, love. I've been exceptionally tired recently and seeing Brenden in here with you while you're alone just put a fire in my belly. I don't trust him."

"Because he's a woodsman?" Anna frowned, reluctantly wrapping her arms around his toned waist and setting her forehead on his chest, the musky smell of his cologne creeping into her nose.

"Because he's a man alone with a woman. I don't know what I'd do if something happened to you." He squeezed her tight, setting his chin atop her head. "Now, back to the matter of what's in your hair."

"It's soot," she answered, nervously patting her hair to be rid of the clingy dirt.

"Sticking your head in the oven again, I see," he laughed. "Why are you covered in soot?"

Anna took a breath and let it out in a rush, realizing for the first time that day she actually had someone to talk to—or at least rant to—about her crazy, hectic morning. "Would you believe me if I told you Elsa decided to turn our hearth into her personal forge?"

"There are a lot of things I wouldn't put past your sister."

"Yeah, well, that's what I woke up to this morning, and one of the reasons I was late."

"Oh Anna, not again. You know how Mother is with punctuality. Love, we've talked about this!"

"I know, I know," Anna whined, stepping out of his embrace and rubbing her hands against her apron before counting off the mishaps that had taken place since she awoke. "Look, everything just fell apart this morning. I forgot to reset the chime in my clock, so it didn't go off on time. Elsa woke me up by screaming at me from the top of the stairs. I got dressed in a hurry. Nearly broke my neck coming down the stairs because she left her stuff lying around, _again._ Then I walking into a kitchen about as hot as the sun, and she's there warming a poker in the coals! I mean, who brings a forge into their house?! It's not like she's got far to walk to her workshop, but oh no, she had to bring everything inside because 'it's cold'," she made air quotations with her fingers and continued her rant. "Of course it's cold; it's bloody winter! And there was soot all over the kitchen and living room, and it got everywhere! I'm fairly certain that muffin I ate was coated in the stuff. I would have changed, but I was already horribly late, so imagine your mother's delight when I show up covered in soot and twenty minutes late and…" she trailed off, letting her hands fall to her side, energy spent.

"That really does sound like a stressful morning," Hans admitted, nodding slowly.

"Tell me about it," Anna grumbled, leaning against the counter. She would have slumped into one of the chairs if she were allowed to sit while working; however that was strictly forbidden.

"Well, I can certainly tell you got dressed in a hurry this morning, love," he said with an exasperated sigh, looking her up and down like a jeweler scanning for imperfections. "It's a wonder your bodice has stayed on this long. You've missed at least six eyelets. Here, let me lace you up properly." The book keeper's son walked around behind Anna and deftly began unlacing her bodice with shocking speed before she could object, deft fingers flying through their work.

_It's like he's done this before,_ Anna thought idly but chose not to say anything for fear of implicating something that might offend him. Regardless of having courted for a time, Anna had yet to reach the point where she could surrender to what Hans affectionately called "carnal pleasures", a decision that didn't set well with her suitor. He'd accepted her decision but had made it abundantly clear he wouldn't wait on her forever.

Working the laces through the missed eyelets, Hans checked their evenness before starting the cinching process. He began at the bottom of Anna's bodice and worked his way up, bringing the two pieces of fabric together until they were very nearly touching.

"That's...ah…a little tight, don't you think?" Anna wheezed as Hans jerked hard on the laces, squeezing the fabric around her middle like a vice, reminding her of those snakes she'd read about who constrict their prey before swallowing them whole. The redhead had never been fond of fashion, wearing what was comfortable, functional, and what she could easily make or mend from older fabrics, but her suitor was a man who knew what he wanted in a woman. Though she'd never asked him to, more than once Anna had come home to a small stack of boxes on the kitchen table containing dresses and fashionable bodices Hans had ordered especially for her. Elsa would roll her eyes as her sister unboxed her dresses, holding them up to herself in the mirror, all warm smiles and girly giggling.

"The tighter the better, dear. We must always look our best, correct? Plus, you need to stop slouching so much. It's not ladylike and is bad on your back. Luckily, a night bodice can help with that."

"I—I guess…so," she managed—hand pressed against her compressed stomach— as he tied off the laces and quickly spun her around to examine her front. The sudden motion made the already lightheaded girl sway a bit, forcing her to clutch at his arms for balance and support.

"There," he said with a satisfied smile, his bright hazel eyes tracking over her now plumped breasts and slender waist, "perfection."

"Wasn't I perfect before?"

"Well of course you were!" he chuckled, wiping away a smudge of soot from her brow. "But even a china doll can look sloppy when not dressed properly. You're far too beautiful to dress like a slob."

"Gee, thanks."

"I just always want you at our best, pet." Hans bopped her one the nose with his finger before drawing Anna into a kiss.

"Please don't call me that," the redhead grumbled after they'd pulled away, unable to tell if she was flushing from the kiss or from the tightness of her bodice. "I hate it when your mother calls me that, so don't start doing it, too."

"But I think it's a cute name," Hans pouted.

"_Please_?"

"Alright, fine. You win this round," he relented.

"And anyway, apparently I'm just beautiful enough to work at the gentlemen's club, according to your mother," the redhead groused, still unable to let that little slight go.

Hans frowned and blinked, crossing his arms over his chest. "She said that to you?"

"Because I was late."

"Well, tardiness is one of her pet peeves, but I'm sure she was only joking. Still, she shouldn't have suggested something like that. I honestly think sometimes she forgets herself. Old age, I imagine."

"Sure, yeah, we'll go with that." Anna turned stiffly around and walked back over to the counter, unsure how she was going to bend over or do even menial tasks with how tight she was cinched. As she came around the counter she saw a small bundle waiting for her and turned towards her suitor with a questioning frown.

"I had a feeling you'd forget your lunch again, so I thought we could eat together," the book keeper's son said motioning at the bundle.

"Thank you," Anna beamed, realizing she actually was fairly famished after hastily scarfing down a single muffin earlier that morning. Though eating in the front of the shop wasn't permitted, Hans brushed off his mother's persnickety rules and spread out the contents of the bundle on the counter, obviously pleased with himself. Anna ate her portion of cold chicken, soft cheese, round bread, and a few dried apple wedges with hearty gusto, while Hans told her about his day so far and some plans he had for the Yule season.

"I'm not sure if Mother and Father will be returning to the city this year or not, but you're always welcome to join us."

"You know I can't leave Elsa behind like that," Anna mumbled as she wiped her hands clean of chicken grease on her apron.

"You two are always cloistered away in that cabin of yours over the holiday season. It's just not right. You should be out celebrating."

"Hans, you know why we don't celebrate," the redhead whispered and made a face, once again looking out the large glass window. The snow was falling heavily now, blanketing the cobblestones and turning the once colorful shops a subdued monochrome. Putting her head in her hands, Anna heaved a great sigh, feeling the roll of emotions in her chest again. "I really do hate this time of year."

"Let's not think about such dark things," her suitor urged, coming to stand behind her, arms wrapping around her shoulders.

"How can I not? It's been three years, but I still feel their death like it happened yesterday."

"I know, love; I know."

They stood there for a long time stuck in a lengthy silence that only one truly appreciated. Eventually the two disentangled, Hans letting Anna return to work while he gathered the remnants of their meal and threw it into the stove. Rather than taking his leave like he usually did, the book keeper's son stayed with Anna for the rest of the day, skimming the new titles or helping her shelve when her height disadvantage came into play. Despite being a little over five foot, some of the shelves required a ladder to reach. Anna had never had a problem with heights, but Hans argued that she shouldn't need to climb so long as he was here to help.

As afternoon gave way to early evening, the sun starting to set behind the heavy gray clouds, Anna checked the clock and was surprised to find that it was almost closing time. Madame Boekhandel usually closed the shop around four in the evening just before supper hour, and it was a minor blessing Anna had come to appreciate in the winter months. It meant she didn't have to go home in the dark. So the redhead quickly performed her closing duties and readied the shop for the next morning: sweeping and straightening and wiping down the counters to make certain she got all the grease off the wood.

"You could always join me at the lodge this evening. We'll eat, and then I'll take you home," Hans offered as Anna set her broom back in the corner next to the door and gave the shop one last look-over. Satisfied all was as it should be and in its proper place, she shooed him out the door and locked it behind her with a ring of keys produced from her apron.

"Thank you, but not tonight. I have a feeling I'll need to clean the house if my sister's been smithing in it all day."

"Always the homemaker," the book keeper's son said softly, helping her clasp her cloak around her shoulders. "You'll make a fine wife someday."

"The last thing I want is to be a homemaker the rest of my life," she frowned. "At some point I actually want to leave this godawful town and see the world."

"Trust me, that dream is just a pleasant fantasy. There's nothing in the world that you can't find here. And besides, I like the idea of you on your hands and knees scrubbing floors," Hans purred in her ear, pulling her close to him and planting his warm lips on her neck. Anna fought down a startled gasp and flushed, heart suddenly leaping into her throat.

"Y-You would," she stammered, feeling the flush starting to spread throughout the rest of her body as he continued to nuzzle her neck, hands wandering down the front of her bodice. Anna found herself relaxing back into him with a breathy sigh, closing her eyes and just allowing him to…

"I…I can't," she squeaked and suddenly jerked away, turning in profile as she did. "I'm sorry, it's just…not right now. I need to go home."

The look that flashed across Hans' face fell somewhere between indignant anger and chafing irritation. She saw a glint of something in his eyes that made her unconsciously weary like she was facing down an unpredictable animal. He exhaled through his nose, evidently perturbed, and was preparing to fire off a sharp rebuke when the stamp of horse's hooves drew both of their attention to the large gray and white Clydesdale coming around the corner and the cloaked woman sitting erect in the saddle. Anna didn't know why, but the sight of her sister soothed the sudden unease squirming around in her stomach.

"You close up shop alone again?" Elsa asked as she reined up in front of her sister, her sharp blue eyes catching the nervousness on Anna's face and the unamusement on Hans'. Her curious concern turned to a smoldering frown as she stared down at the two of them, making certain Hans knew she was glaring at him like a mother catching him in a naughty act.

"No, Hans kept me company," the redhead answered, unsure why she clambered into the saddle behind her sister so quickly or why her hands were shaking.

_What's wrong with me? Why do I always get this way when he does things like that?_

"Thank you for keeping her company," the blonde said, nodding tersely at Hans.

"You act as though it were a chore," the book keeper's son frowned, brow creasing.

"Well, I know you're awfully busy this time of year," Elsa explained, turning her horse as she spoke, the large beast shorting great clouds of steam into the fridge, snowy air. "And I know Anna wouldn't want to take you away from your pressing duties at…what was it again you do, I've forgotten."

Hans' face began to turn red, his hands closing to fists at his side. He knew these were purposeful jabs and it rankled him. "Helping my mother with deliveries," he ground out, forcing himself not to spit it between clenched teeth.

"Deliveries, that's right. Well, have a good rest of your evening, Master Boekhandel."

"You shouldn't have done that," Anna muttered as they trotted away, Gray Dawn snorting happily as the snow swirled around them.

"Done what?" Elsa asked innocently, guiding her mount through the frosty streets towards the edge of town.

"Don't play stupid! You were purposely egging him on. Elsa, why can't you just be civil around my suitor? We all used to be close friends."

"I don't like the man he's turned out to be, Anna," the blonde explained tightly, kicking her heels into Gray Dawn's flanks to make him move a little faster.

"He's just been through a lot, and that year we shared apart was hard on him."

"I saw what he was doing and how he was making you feel," Elsa snapped, glancing at her sister over her shoulder. Despite it snowing fairly heavily, the blonde wasn't wearing a hood, preferring Anna to wear the hooded cloak because she oftentimes had to walk to and from work and it was warmer.

"That's on me, not him. I'm the one with the problem," Anna argued stubbornly. "I just have to get used to his touch that's all."

"That's a load of shit, and you know it. Any man whose touch you shrink away from should be avoided because his intentions aren't pure. Mamma taught us that, or have you forgotten?"

"Just stop, Elsa. I don't want to talk about it anymore," the redhead huffed, looking away in order to break the tether of conversation.

Elsa turned back around with a scowl and snapped the reins once to kick Gray Dawn into a swift trot, snow stinging her face as it whipped past. She knew her sister was being blatantly stubborn and obstinate—she wouldn't be Anna if she wasn't— but Elsa couldn't help the overprotectiveness that came over her whenever she saw Anna and Hans together. She couldn't put her finger on it, but she knew he was trouble. Sure the three of them had practically grown up together, but the boy she'd once known—the happy, kind child who was always swift to laugh or lend a helping hand—and changed into a shallow, egotistical man she could barely stomach to be around. He was rude; he was conceited; he was mean, but most of all—and the fact that bothered her the most— he was manipulative. And every time Anna spent time with him she'd take on some of those qualities as if she were a sticky ball.

"You deserve someone better," the blonde had argued with her sister multiple times in the past. "He's not the man for you."

"You don't get to tell me who I can and cannot court! You're not Mother!"

As was most often, the fight would either end there or escalate into something worse until the sisters' stopped talking to one another entirely, shutting themselves away in their respective rooms until both of their tempers cooled enough they could once again talk civilly.

_But you do deserve someone better,_ Elsa thought with a sad sigh. _You deserve a prince, and Hans is no prince. He's just a pauper like the rest of us who plays like he's a royal._


	4. Chapter 3

Despite her eyes being closed, Anna wasn't asleep and hadn't been for quite some time when the chime of the clock sounded a full hour before she actually needed to get up. For a few moments she remained stubbornly in bed, unwilling to set her feet on the cold floor. She reasoned that if she didn't rise the day didn't have to start…right? But that was preposterously stupid. The day started when the sun broke the horizon, meaning she was just dragging out the inevitable. With heavy reluctance, the redhead slowly sat up and reached over to touch the small lever on her clock to stop the chime. As the last resounding note faded, the room fell into unfathomable silence so deep and so crushing Anna could actually feel it as a physical force.

Swinging her legs over the side of the bed, the redhead sat hunched against the gentle bands of sunlight streaming in from between her curtains. They were too weak to warm her but proved strong enough to illuminate the room. For a long time the only thing Anna could bring her body to do was sit and stare at the opposite wall, hands resting on her remarkably soft mattress.

_Four years…they've been gone four years now,_ she thought, feeling the weight in her chest double in size. _It feels like it was yesterday…_

Sometimes it was hard to believe that life had kept on moving, leaving Anna stranded in a strange limbo stretched between the past and present. Many times she'd find herself unable to come to terms with the fact that her mother and father were dead; that they'd left her alone in a world she didn't and couldn't fully understand. Sometimes an unimaginable and unpredictable anger or sadness would suddenly overtake her, and it was like she was feeling the brunt of their death all over again. Simple things could trigger a relapse, and the flood of such toxic and potent emotions would leave her broken in their wake like a ship battered to pieces against a stony shore. More than once Elsa had to physically carry her back to the house or up to bed while her sister sobbed helplessly on her shoulder, too overcome to even stand on her own. Today, however, Anna woke blessedly numb. She knew the pain was there; she could sense it beneath the strange stoic mask she didn't even realize she was wearing, but for now it was just a distant irritation that Anna could easily overcome. Well, easily was putting it far too lightly. There was nothing easy about today, but at the very least she had the strength to pull herself out of bed and dress mechanically, her hands going through the motion while her mind remained blank.

Emerging from her room, the redhead quietly made for the stairs but stopped just shy of the first step, her eyes flicking over to the door at the end of the narrow hall: her sister's door. Elsa had taken up living in their father and mother's room a year after their death, giving Anna their old room so she could have a space to call her own. It had been an adjustment for the sisters—the sudden death of a parent wasn't something anyone ever expected to experience—but eventually Elsa and Anna had fallen into a familiar routine that helped sooth the sting of sudden loss. Still, just looking at that door flooded Anna's mind with happy memories of running into her parents' room early Sunday morning and diving onto their bed, not content until she had pleasantly wedged herself between them and snuggled under the covers. That room had been a safe haven during thunderstorms or when the dreams began plaguing her, had been a place of laughter and love, but now it was just a home for painful ghosts much like the garden or the rope swing that still hung from the oak bough out back.

For a moment Anna stood staring at the plain door with the black iron handle, unsure if she should approach or just go about her day. No doubt Elsa would be up already—she was naturally an early riser—but if Anna was hurting she knew her sister shared every sharp ache and painful memory.

_We don't need to be alone today,_ she thought, swallowing. _I…I don't want to be alone today. She might still be mad at me, but that's okay. Today we need each other._

Slowly, the redhead padded up to the door and raised her fist to knock but pulled back at the last second before her knuckles brushed the wood. Last night the two of them had gone to bed upset with one another; Anna stomping up to her room and slamming the door before Elsa could say so much as a word. She'd been angry at the blonde for her jabs she'd made against Hans and the way she always managed to make him out to be the bad guy in every situation, but that was only half of why Anna had been angry. The other half—the half that mattered and was the real root of the problem—was the fact that Anna was angry with herself. She'd felt unimaginably uncomfortable with Hans putting his hands on her but hadn't said anything out of fear of the possible repercussions of his anger. In essence, Anna had very nearly submitted to his desires while throwing her own reservations and unease to the wind. It had been Elsa who had spoken up and effectively "rescued" Anna from a situation the redhead could have very easily removed herself from. But she hadn't because she didn't want to upset the only man who had ever really shown a true interest in her. So because the redhead had felt victimized and shamed at the same infuriating time she'd lashed out at her sister instead of putting Hans in his place; a mistake she realized she'd made only after the fact, and it galled her.

_He always gets under my skin somehow, and I can't explain how. But that's silly,_ Anna scoffed. _It's not so much that he gets under my skin. He and I just have two different ways of thinking. I just need to give him a chance to adjust. He has gone through a lot…_

Anna's unintentional hesitation lasted a lot longer than planned, eventually stretching into a lengthy, uneasy silence. Biting her bottom lip, she exhaled slowly through her nose and stepped back, feeling like the biggest coward in Sors. All she had to do was knock, but her pride wouldn't let her. To knock was to admit she'd been wrong about getting angry with Elsa. To knock would be submitting to her older sister and proving to her she wasn't as mature as Anna liked to believe she was. To knock would be to lean on Elsa during the anniversary of their parents' death when she should have the strength to stand on her own.

_It's been four years. Time to grow up, Anna._

Gathering her courage, Anna knocked softly three times and waited, listening for the telltale creaking of boards as her sister approached. When no sounds came from the other side of the door, she knocked again a little harder, this time calling out.

"Elsa? Elsa, are you in there?" Again silence. Making a plaintive noise, the redhead pushed the handle down and cracked open the door. "Hello?"

Going a step further, Anna poked her head inside the room, bracing for the stinging rebuke she was sure to receive. She was surprised, however, to find the room deserted. The small bed against the back wall had been made and it didn't look like anyone had been in here for a while.

_Maybe she's downstairs already? _

Feeling more defeated than hopeful, Anna turned and trudged down the stairs. She made it to the first landing before realizing there were no idle baskets of sprockets or gears littering the steps. Even more shocking, the small dining room had been picked up along with the kitchen, all of Elsa's tools and small projects put away or neatly organized elsewhere. There was still a fairly thick coating of soot on the floor and walls, but that could be overlooked in lieu of the fact that her sister had actually _cleaned the house._

_How long has Elsa been up?_

Wandering further into the kitchen, Anna smelled the rich scent of cooked food and looked expectantly for her sister but didn't see her. Instead, she saw a small plate of eggs, a few strips of bacon, and thick slices of toast waiting for her on the table in front of her usual sitting place nearest to the fire. There were no other place settings, just Anna's portion of breakfast—which was unusually hearty for what Elsa usually prepared—left out for her to eat whenever she got up. Somehow, despite this being a normal occurrence in the house despite the chosen foods being a little more expensive than muffins or biscuits, Anna felt slightly stung. Elsa hadn't waited for her like she usually did. Despite the redhead's inability to always wake up on time, one of the few bright points of her morning was spending a few stolen minutes with her sister while they ate breakfast. Today, however, it appeared Elsa either had more pressing matters to attend to or just didn't want to be around Anna after their small spat last night, leaving her little sister food and then disappearing to God knows where. It was a minor slight, one she shouldn't really take to heart, but today, of all days, it felt like a slap in the face.

_Gee, I can just feel the sibling love this morning,_ Anna groused, making a sour face. _Thanks a bunch for staying with me this morning, sis. Lovely talking to you._

Walking to the kitchen window behind the copper washbasin, she squinted through the ice frosted glass to the workshop across the yard. Anna couldn't see any smoke rising from the chimney or hear the telltale ring of a hammer striking an anvil, but that didn't mean Elsa wasn't out there working.

_Maybe she was at the gravesite already. _

That thought put a scowl on the redhead's face, and she turned angrily away. Suddenly, she wasn't hungry at all and returned to her room to finish getting ready before donning her apron and clock and leaving the house. Even going into work early seemed more pleasant than waiting around for Elsa like a puppy by the door.

_Fine. If she wants to be alone, I'll leave her alone. I get the hint._

Stomping out into the porch and slamming the door behind her, Anna stopped before stepping off into the yard and took a deep breath to calm the tumble of emotions rolling inside her, letting the cold permeate every inch of her exposed skin and raise goosebumps in its wake. The crisp air cleared her head, quelling the simmering anger starting to heat her blood. Much like yesterday, the sky was overcast, low gray clouds hanging close to the earth. Luckily, no more snow had fallen since last night's flurries, meaning Anna's walk into town wouldn't be as difficult as it could have been. There had been many times over the past four years where she'd trudged to work in knee deep snow in nothing more than a heavy wool dress, clunky boots, and knickers under her skirt unless she had enough time to saddle Gray Dawn and ride him in instead. Anna certainly didn't want to have to do that today and wind up having to tether him to the side of the bookshop for the entirety of her shift. God knows Madam Boekhandel would find a reason to pitch a fit, and that was a battle Anna didn't want to have. Not today, and not with how frayed her emotions already were. Thankfully though, the snow was less than ankle deep, and it looked as if a few carriages had already traveled down the road that ran close to her home, providing deep wheel ruts for her to walk in. So the redhead followed the tracks back into town, snow creaking and squealing with each footfall, her mind lost in the past.

She reached the bookshop without encountering anyone save for a few woodsmen returning from an early hunt. The men had a few lean bucks piled in a squat cart drawn by an equally squat mule, the lot of them laughing and joking as they pulled up in front of the butcher shop. Brenden was among them, laughing the loudest. He being the tallest of the four men jumped from the back of the cart and began unloading the bucks when he happened to look up and spot Anna across the courtyard. At seeing her, the laughter died in his throat and he sobered quickly, offering her a polite yet hesitant nod before returned to his work, careful not to make eye contact again. The rest of the men, turned in the direction he'd been looking also sobered, the courtyard falling into a fragile silence as the men worked to unload their kills while studiously ignoring the redhead watching them.

_It seems like today I'm going to be the town's pariah,_ Anna thought sadly as she turned away and fished the ring of keys out of her apron. _But I guess it's not really a great surprise. No one wants to be around a grieving woman if they don't have too. _

Trying to count it as a blessing—because really the last thing Anna wanted was to have to conduct cordial conversation—she set about readying the shop for business by lighting the potbelly stove with some of the wood left over from yesterday and setting a clay mug of water atop it to warm. Remarkably, one of the few things Madam Boekhandel would allow in the shop was tea, a small luxury Anna took full advantage of. She loved tea, and oftentimes there was nothing more soothing than settling into a warm, cozy nook with a mug of steaming tea and a good book. Obviously Anna wasn't allowed to do exactly that while on shift, but cupping her hands around the sides of a warm mug while leaning against the counter was a pleasant second option.

A half hour later Madam Boekhandel stepped into the shop, surprised to find her employee already hard at work straightening the shelves and arranging the display case in front of the counter. Anna had even gone as far as wiping down the front window and rearranging the display there with fresh titles. Madam Boekhandel made a quick sweep of the store from the doorway, apparently pleased by what she saw or at the very least content.

"Good morning," she called, her voice carrying through the stacks.

The greeting was strange for Madam Boekhandel and oddly…subdued. And she'd not used any of Anna's pet names, something that the woman rarely did. It was enough of a shock to stop the redhead in her tracks as she swung around a corner after resetting a shelf. Taking a breath, Anna looked up and gave her employer a shallow curtsey, ducking her head as she did. "Good morning, Madam Boekhandel."

"You're early today," the woman observed, setting a stack of ledgers on the counter.

"I…I needed to get out of the house. It's not somewhere I really want to be…today," Anna replied softly, suddenly finding the wood grain under her feet very interesting. Something unsaid passed between the two women, and Madam Boekhandel nodded in an almost sage-like fashion.

"Goodness me, I had almost forgotten. Today is the anniversary, isn't it?" she quietly intoned, looking over Anna's shoulder to the calendar hanging on the wall.

"Yes, Ma-am."

A look of pity flashed across the book keeper's beautiful face, her red-painted lips quirking at the edges in what could have been a slight grimace. "Well, bless you for being on time, at least. I'll leave you to your work. If you need anything, I'll be upstairs logging numbers."

"Thank you, Ma-am."

"Also, I'm expecting an important caller later on this afternoon. He'll come in asking for me. Please send him up to my office immediately."

"Yes, of course."

Madam Boekhandel nodded once more before gathering her stack of books and heading towards the back of the shop. Anna could hear her heeled boots on the stairs as she climbed, the old boards squealing and creaking as she entered the private apartment above the shop where she conducted all her business transactions and book keeping. The redhead was happy to see her go, unwilling to struggle to pleasing her employer or suffer seeing the piteous look on the book keeper's face every time she look in her direction. Anna knew the whole town would be like this today and braced for it.

Oh yes, the townsfolk of Sors would share in her mourning today as if they actually cared, as if they'd all lost someone important and not the eccentric inventor who lived on the outskirts of town with his two strange daughters and bookish wife. Oh yes, they would paint their faces to look morose or sorrowful, offering seemingly heartfelt condolences and well-wishes, but Anna saw through it despite wanting to believe the townsfolk were actually being genuine. It was, however, difficult to believe when mostly everyone seemed to have conveniently forgotten the girls' days after their parents' death, going about their lives as if nothing more significant than a beloved pet had passed away and not a productive member of the town. But today they would all pretend to share in the grief of the sisters, and Anna would have to suffer in silence knowing that none of them, save for a select few, really cared.

_Sometimes I really wish I could be like Elsa and shut myself away where the world can't find me on days like today._

Luckily though, the day continued without many visitors to the shop, and those who did enter the store offered hurried condolences before making their selection and leaving or dropping off returns. Even Mr. Clockcount offered Anna a sad half-smile and a somewhat heartfelt apology, though he didn't get within ten feet of her while doing so. The redhead took the well-wishes and sorrowful apologies in stride, reminding herself to be polite and nod appreciatively.

At exactly noon an expensive carriage pulled by an equally expensive team of sleek, black horses pulled up in front of the bookshop. Anna had just finished adding ten returned books back into the store's log when she saw the carriage approach and stared, unsure why something so opulent would be in a poor provincial town like Sors. Adding to the oddity of this unexpected spectacle, a tall man dressed in a trimmed navy blue and silver coat stepped out of the carriage after the footman opened the door for him, adjusted his top hat, and chambered his silver cane under his armpit. Watching from the window, Anna could see that the man had sharp features that reminded her of how a hawk would look if somehow turned into a human, and the expression twisting his angular face was nothing short of barely veiled disgust.

_Well, I can certainly tell this is going to be an interesting encounter,_ Anna thought as the well-dressed man stepped into the shop and stamped the snow from his perfectly shined shoes. He took one look at Anna, sneered, and promptly looked around for other service.

"May I help you, sir?" the redhead asked politely, making certain to keep her face pleasant.

"I'm looking for Madam Genovia Boekhandel."

"Ah, I see," Anna nodded, suspecting as much. "Madam Boekhandel said she was expecting someone important today. If you'll please follow me to the back of the—"

"Young lady, I am perfectly capable of finding the stairs myself. Please return to your duties," he interrupted, walking towards the back of the building with a clipped gait.

_I can certainly tell you're from the city, you prick,_ Anna thought with a scowl as he watched the man disappear into the stacks, his footfalls echoing throughout the store. She did, however, crack a devilish half-grin when the snob from the city soon discovered that the door to the upper level was locked. Before he could call for assistance, or start pounding on the door, Anna took a key off a brass hook next to her and went him.

"My apologies, sir, but Madam Boekhandel prefers this door remain locked for privacy sake. Here, allow me to unlock it for you." She said everything with a pleasant ring to her voice despite wearing a smug smile of her own as she made this impatient man wait for her to turn the lock.

"Are there any other locked doors I should be aware of?" he grumbled as Anna held the door open for him.

"None to my knowledge. Have a pleasant day."

The man grunted once more before proceeding up the stairs and out of sight. Somehow, the little exchange lifted the redhead's spirits some. It wasn't often she got the chance to innocently antagonize blatantly rude customers. Still smiling, she returned to the front counter just in time to hear the back door creak open moments before Hans stepped into the small side room.

"Good afternoon," he said with a sweet smile, trying his best to hide the bouquet of winter flowers behind his back. Anna saw them and felt her lightened mood fall like a stone into a pond, remembering in a rush that today really wasn't a day for smiles. Hans saw the cheer drain from her face and sighed, revealing his gift with a practiced flourish.

"I thought these would be nice to, you know, put on the graves," he explained a little awkwardly.

"They're beautiful, thank you," Anna said, accepting the flowers from him and setting them gently on the counter.

"How are you doing today?" he asked softly, pulling her into a warm hug that only marginally relaxed her. Anna breathed deep, smelling his cologne and the soap he used on his cloths and found it odd that, despite his best efforts, there always seemed to be a rigidness to Hans' embrace as if it were a formality he had to overcome. Still, the hug was needed and she accepted it without complaint.

"I'm doing alright. It's…it's still hard, you know, to wrap my head around the fact they've been gone for four years."

"I know, love, I know. I really wish you would let me—"

A crash from the second floor grabbed ahold of their attention and wrenched their eyes towards the ceiling. There was a series of smaller thuds, possibly books hitting the floor, accompanied by muffled shouts from Madam Boekhandel. A second loud bang made them jump and unconsciously move towards the staircase.

"What on earth is she—"

The door to the second floor suddenly slammed open and a very haggard, very angry looking man from the city stumbled through the doorway and quickly made his way out of the shop, his hawkish face three shades of red. He didn't even glance at Hans and Anna as he stepped outside and immediately climbed into his carriage, which took off half a heartbeat later.

"Hans!"

Hans and Anna both spun and instinctively backed away from a stormy looking Madam Boekhandel as she emerged from the stacks, her eyes flashing like bottled lightning.

"Mother?" Hans ventured, clearly confused and just a bit worried by the seething anger boiling under her skin.

"I would have a word with you. _Now_," she punctuated her command by pointing to the back door before stomping past them with all the grace of a raging bull. The door slammed shut behind her with a resounding bang.

"I…I'll be right back," Hans frowned, worry tinging his voice.

"Is everything alright?"

"I can't imagine it is with how angry she looked," he muttered, steeling himself before walking out the back door, leaving a perplexed and slightly uneasy Anna behind in the vacuum of his absence.

* * *

><p>She'd only stopped crying a few minutes ago, her eyes puffy and sore, her nose irritatingly congested despite having been in the cold for longer than was ultimately necessary. It was a blessing her tears had dried up for the moment because now Elsa could actually <em>see<em> the gravestones. Beside her sat Olaf, the shaggy white and black dog looking up every now and then whenever his mistress sniffed hard or fought back a heavy sob. It was a common belief that dogs could sense pain and heartache. Elsa had never been one to believe such fantastical assumptions, animals were just animals, but today she'd allow herself to believe that Olaf was trying to sooth her broken heart by showing her he was always near and would always be a source of warm hugs and slobbery kisses.

"You're a good boy," Elsa rasped after a long stretch of silence, her voice raw from crying. She gently petted the top of the dog's head, scratching just behind his floppy ears where she knew he liked it best. Content with the scratching, Olaf leaned quietly against his mistress.

Elsa had risen before dawn, unwilling to remain in the tumultuous tangle of fragmented memories and dreams that haunted her every time she closed her eyes. Sometimes she'd see her mother and father returning home, the two of them waving happily from the road, their bodies whole and healthy and completely unharmed. In this dream everything had just been a huge misunderstanding and they'd not been murdered in cold blood only miles from their home. The blonde would often wake with an overwhelming sense of peace until reality swung back around like a ball on a string. Other times Elsa could see the vivid wounds on their bodies and the bright smears of blood soaking into their clothing. Agdar and Idunn would still smile and wave, still approach as if nothing were amiss, while their daughter screamed from the porch in abject horror at seeing her parents in such a gruesome state.

But the worst dreams, the ones that oftentimes pulled Elsa shrieking out of her sleep some nights, were the dreams of walking into the forest and stumbling across her parents' bodies while participating in a mundane task like gathering firewood or picking barriers. Always her mother and father were splayed out, the wounds which had bled them of life yawning open, blood soaking into the ground and turning it to sticky red sludge. Their unseeing eyes would somehow be trained on her, dark accusations etched into their frozen faces, and always, _always_ the vines would be there. They would creep across the corpses, searching fingers finding the wounds and plunging into their bodies. Elsa would watching in stomach-rolling terror as the vines burst from under their skin like writhing snakes and wrap around their bodies, pulling them apart like wolves shredding a kill.

For the first time in four years, however, the blonde hadn't had that particularly gruesome dream the night before the anniversary, but Elsa could still feel the fear and anguish creeping into her soul as if the vines were somehow made corporeal and had emerged from her dreams to slither under her skin. So she'd risen without waking Anna, content on letting her little sister sleep while she busied herself doing anything that would stave off sleep for as long as possible. Cleaning the house had seemed like the logical thing to do. Elsa knew she wasn't the tidiest person in the world, her projects oftentimes overtaking whatever area she was working on, so she figured Anna would appreciate a clean home and something hearty to eat when she awoke.

_Mad at me or not, I'm still the eldest, and I still need to take care of my family._

But the drive to clean and urge to keep her hands busy, therefore her mind blank, wasn't enough to fully chase away the cloying sadness slung around her shoulders. Elsa managed to get the kitchen and dining room picked up and a small meal prepared, but couldn't bring herself to eat a single bite. It was like nothing she did had the power to chase the sadness from her while at the same time she kept finding things that reminded her of her parents. A painting Anna had done of a bouquet of flowers seated on the mantle above the fireplace reminded her of the warm spring afternoons she, her sister, and their mother would share in the garden out back. A basket of sprockets Elsa had gone through with her father before he died reminded her of lying on the floor under her father's machine, handing him various tools while he explained in detail what every pipe, coil, and bellows did. A specific red-leather book in the bookcase, her mother's fairytale tome, reminded her of the nights their mother would tell her and Anna—either by the fire or in their beds—tales of mischievous fae or vengeful gods and forest spirits. Each little discovery was like a knife plunging into her heart, and eventually Elsa found herself seated in the high-backed chair next to the fire turning her father's pocket watch over and over while tears rolled down her face. He'd given it to her before he and Idunn had departed on their last journey together, instructing Elsa to see if she could get the second hand—the one which continuously got stuck near the twelve—to work again.

"I know you can figure out what's wrong," Agdar had smiled as he handed it to her from his seat on the wagon bench. "It's not a hard fix, but my hands and eyes aren't what they use to be. I can't get to the springs anymore or the levers."

"It'll be running smooth as silk by the time you come back," Elsa had beamed, holding the watch to her chest like it was the greatest treasure in the world, which really it was. Agdar was never without his pocket watch. The silver, palm-sized timepiece had been his greatest achievement, his masterpiece, as a clock maker. Not many men had the ability to craft the small, intricate parts that went into pocket watches, but Agdar was a master craftsman. It had taken him three years to perfect his watch: cutting, molding, forging, and soldering each piece in place with almost limitless patience, so for him to give it to his eldest daughter for both safekeeping and repair meant the world to her. Elsa had gotten the timepiece running smoothly again after only a few days of tinkering, and four years later it had yet to stick near the twelve again or leave her side. She'd contemplated burying her father with it but in a moment of selfish need had held onto it for sentiments sake; a decision she didn't regret at all in making….until today.

Today the watch was a reminder of what she'd lost and would never regain. She'd fixed the watch and looked after her sister, just as her father had instructed, but that was four years ago. Now they were utterly alone and struggling to makes ends-meat. Now, Anna was forced to work in Hans' mother's bookshop while Elsa tried furiously to get her father's last great invention finished in time to send to their benefactor while selling clocks where she could. And to make matters worse, Anna had begun courting Hans again. Elsa knew the real reason she disliked him so vehemently—the reason she kept firmly hidden from her sister—was because the blonde feared that if Anna did indeed go through with the courting and eventually married Hans Elsa would truly be alone. Being the eldest had meant she'd forgone her own secret desire to find someone she could possibly marry, instead focusing on being the provider. Now it seemed that her remarkable maturity and selflessness meant she was going to live out her life alone, and that was something she couldn't handle.

Feeling the uncontrollable need to leave the house for a little bit, Elsa donned her cloak and headed to her workshop, Olaf in tow, but there was no solace to be found there either, only more old ghosts. Eventually she'd wandered to the back of the house and up the small hill where her parents had been buried. Elsa knew her solo visitation to the graves would anger her sister—they'd always visited the headstones together on the anniversary—but right now the blonde needed some time alone to think and calm her mind, and only silence and temporary isolation would do that. Anna would forgive her, or so she hoped.

"I feel as if I've failed the both of you," the blonde said to the gravestones, finding her voice again. "I thought I could take care of myself and Anna, but we're only just scraping by. Father, your benefactor has been a kind man, but even his patience is wearing thin and the contract you signed with him is almost up. I only need to finish a few alterations to your design, but I'm not sure it will be enough. So what's going to happen if I lose your commission? What will become of your daughters?" Fresh tears stung her eyes, and Elsa squeezed them shut, determined not to shed any more tears today, but they fell unbidden. "What am I going to do, Papa? I don't know where to turn or who I can turn to."

Sinking to her knees, headless of the cold snow soaking into her breeches, Elsa rested her forehead against the slate-gray stone, trembling hands gripping the rough edges like a climber clinging to a cliff's edge. They'd not had enough money to afford the more artful headstones, settling for simple granite slabs with her mother and father's names hastily chiseled into the stone. Yet another slight made by Sors. They'd treated the sisters' loss as if it were an afterthought, throwing together a hasty ceremony with hasty headstones and hasty goodbyes.

_You both deserved so much more._

"Please, show me the way. I don't know if I can do this anymore, and—" Elsa hesitated, hating herself for even thinking it let alone preparing to say it aloud. "I don't know how much longer I have. The illness is getting worse. I've been able to keep it from Anna for a while now, God knows she's got enough on her plate, but Gerda has had to make me a tonic almost every other month. With winter setting in the cough should abate some, but I can feel it getting worse. I can feel myself getting…weaker. Setting hammer against anvil is becoming harder and so have the treks between the workshop and the house. I had to bring the forge inside our home; you should have seen Anna's reaction. It really upset her, but I couldn't tell her why I'd done it. I can't worry her like that. Maybe this thing with Hans is a good thing; he can take care of her when…when I'm gone…"

Elsa felt whatever else she was going to say dry up on her tongue. Yes, she had to make sure Anna was looked after in the likely event she wasn't around for much longer. The thought awoke such a wave of anger in her chest she slammed her balled fists into the frozen ground, teeth gritted so hard she felt her jaw begin to cramp. This wasn't fair! Why couldn't their lives have turned out differently? Why did she have this strange illness no doctor had been able to properly diagnose? Why couldn't her parents have lived?

_At least if they had I could die without having to fear for Anna's sake!_

The sound of the front door slamming brought Elsa back around, and she looked sadly back towards the house. Apparently, Anna had risen earlier than anticipated. The blonde could almost feel the heat of her sister's anger from across the yard as she set off in the direction of town, her silhouette coming into view a few seconds later as she stepped into the road without even a backwards glance.

Sitting back on her shins, Elsa turned her face towards the slate-gray sky and sighed heavily, a plume of vapor hovering above her head. Perhaps the worst day of the year for the sisters had already started off on a bad foot, almost guaranteeing the hours to follow would be harrowing at best. Deciding that she couldn't remain outside in the cold for much longer, Elsa picked herself up and headed indoors, sighing again when she saw that Anna hadn't touched her food or bothered to take the wrapped bundle her sister had left by the door, though that was more common than Anna forgetting to eat breakfast. The redhead was forever forgetting her lunch.

_I'll take it up to her around noon. It'll give her some time to cool down. Plus, I have a few final adjustments I need to make before I head into town._

Hastily munching on a few slices of cold toast, Elsa quickly gathered together a few baskets of gears and sprockets and headed back to her workshop. While waiting for the forge to heat up, she arranged her needed tools and supplies on an island workbench before pulling the tarp off her father's machine. Brass and copper flashed in the light of the fire, lending the mechanical beast a ferocious gleam. It had been Agdar's sincere hope that someday the art of woodworking and furniture crafting would be available to the masses rather than exclusively dominated by expensive craftsman. The current time it took for woodworker to saw through a tree trunk and shape all the components for a simple table or chair by hand was astronomical and usually required two to three men to accomplish. But that would soon be a thing of the past. Elsa's father had perfected the art of using steam, gears, and tension springs—much like in his precious clocks—to power a machine that could do the work of three men in almost three quarters of the time.

The process was blessedly simple, though the build itself had been almost beyond the point of hair-pulling frustration. The user of the invention need only fill the reservoir in the back of the machine with water and stoke a small fire in the lower belly. Through a series of complex tubes and pipes the steam would move, turning gears and creating tension on the chain-belts and springs. Eventually the tension would release, turning more gears and sprockets, in turn spinning the massive, jagged-toothed circular blade mounted on a stationary table. Wood of varying sizes could be fed into this spinning blade and would be cut cleanly in half with minimal tool marks or wasted wood shredding. All-in-all, it was a marvel Agdar was determined to get patented, but he'd died before the machine was complete, leaving it up to Elsa to finish his life's work.

Despite knowing every nuance of her father's invention, there had been points during the build that required Elsa to become a little creative with new methods of invention. It had taken a bit longer than planned, but the machine was almost complete and ready to take to the family's benefactor in a town near the sea almost two weeks journey from Sors. All Elsa had to do was put the final touches on it and everything would hopefully fall into place.

She worked through most of the morning at a good clip, soot and oil staining her clothing and porcelain skin up to her elbows. Jacking the machine up on a few sturdy blocks, Elsa scooted under it, struggling to get the pipe alignment perfectly straight. It took some muscle to wrestle the forged brass tubes into place, steam seeping from between miniscule cracks that would later be filled with a thick, rubbery pitch to make them air tight. When she finally climbed out from under the machine, thoroughly soaked with sweat and smeared with grime, Elsa decided enough was enough for the day and extinguished her forge, locking up the workshop and heading back into the house. Running a little behind, she left Olaf inside and grabbed Anna's forgotten lunch before going to the stables and saddling Gray Dawn. The large Clydesdale nickered when he saw her, pawing at the ground happily as his mistress lead him out of the stable and climbed atop his high back.

"You're going to be my pack-mule today, old boy. Hope you don't mind the extra weight."

The two set off at a quick trot, making it into town just a few minutes after noon. Luckily the square was almost devoid of people and half of them didn't even notice Elsa's entrance. A few raised hands in greeting but most of them avoided eye contact, a sure sign that they knew better than to approach the twenty-one-year old. Despite being a little more level-headed than her sister, the blonde wasn't above letting her opinions be heard by anyone within earshot, and her usually icy temper had a tendency of exploding if she were pushed. Elsa had been the most boisterous about what she felt was a town-wide injustice committed against her family. The highwaymen responsible for her parents' death had never been caught, but really the constable hadn't put that much effort into finding the murderers. For the longest time Elsa had fought the man tooth and nail to send out search parties or at the very least send word to neighboring towns to be on the lookout for her family's stolen goods—she figured the thieves would try to sell off their loot the first chance they got—but nothing like that had been done and the incident was pushed aside and eventually forgotten.

_No, not forgotten, blatantly ignored,_ Elsa frowned as she led Gray Dawn towards the bookshop. Ridding past the front of the building, she didn't see Anna anywhere inside, but that didn't mean she wasn't there. Guiding her horse to the side of the shop so she could tether him in the small alley between the bookshop and the seamstress's shop next door, Elsa slid from Gray Dawn's back and led the large beast towards a post anchored in the ground with various iron rings attached to it. She was just about to start tying her mount when she heard the sound of two people arguing and stopped.

"What do you mean I'm cut off?" Elsa heard Hans growl and suddenly felt her ears perk up.

"I didn't think that needed explaining," Madam Boekhandel replied in an acrid tone that was far more acidic than usual. "Your father and I can no longer support you. You are a grown man, Hans, and it's time you started acting like one."

"Please explain to me how I'm to start acting like one?" he demanded in a vicious whisper. "I work, I pay for what I want, I—"

"You are lying to yourself and you know it. The work you do is for me, and I can no longer afford to keep you employed, so yes, dear son, you will have to find a job elsewhere that requires more than a few hours of work a week. Also, you don't pay for anything in this town, merely putting it on some imaginary tab you think your father and I will eventually pay. But let me assure you, we will not be laying down a single coin for you from this point on."

Elsa knew she shouldn't be eavesdropping on such a private conversation, but this involved Hans which would ultimately involve Anna, and Elsa would know exactly what kind of trouble the Boekhandel family had fallen into. If not for leverage to break off Hans and her sister's courting, then perhaps she could use this as incentive to make damn sure he treated Anna right.

"I can't believe you're doing this all of this because one damn cargo ship didn't return!"

"That ship was our last chance at leaving this godforsaken town! That ship was going to alleviate the last of our lingering debts and finally allow our family to return to the city. Now, we're back to square one, and your father and I are done letting you slide by. You will find employment, you will pay off your debt to Master Kai—"

"Have you forgotten that we have Kai by the balls? Why do I own him anything?

"And you will find a wife to settle down with, or I will find one for you," Madam Boekhandel continued as if not hearing her son's objection. "God knows this fling you have with the inventor's daughter has gone on long enough. Either wed her, bed her, or find someone else; I don't care which or in which order. Men with simple wives are oftentimes pitied, which can be beneficial in your case; after all, you can't help it if she's next to useless."

"Do not talk about her that way," Hans seethed, and Elsa, seething right along with him, found herself oddly thankful he was standing up for her sister. "Anna may be a simple girl, but she means well."

_Oh fuck you, you prick!_

"The fact that her family might also have money isn't a motivator at all, is it?" Madam Boekhandel inquired in a tone meant to be pleasant but was anything but sweet.

Elsa felt herself go cold. _What the hell are they getting at?_

"Maybe in metal but not in coin, and certainly not in gold," Hans groused.

"Sometimes I wonder if you inherited your father's dim intelligence. Brass and copper, Hans, aren't cheap. Nothing in this world is."

"Expect perhaps you," the book keeper's son said with a nasty sneer, and even Elsa winced. Hans really was an idiot. A half second later she heard the distinctive crack of skin against skin.

"I do everything I can for this family, you ungrateful little shit, and cut back where I know I can and should. You would do well to remember who holds the cards here, son of mine."

"Of course, Mother," Hans hissed, and Elsa could imagine him saying everything through gritted teeth while holding his cheek or perhaps staring stormily at the ground.

"You have your options. If you do not make a decision I'll make the choice for you. I'm not going to let my only son shirk from his duties as a man. You don't have enough money to do so. Make your move or take who I choose. There are at least three other girls I know of who would actually do our family proud."

"Yes, Mother."

"Good, I am relieved you and I are on the same page. Now, I must go speak to your father about this. You have until the end of the month."

Elsa heard Madam Boekhandel walk back into the shop, the distinctive click of her heels echoing her footfalls. A few moments later Hans went in as well, leaving a stunned and slightly nauseated Elsa in the alley. For quite some time she stood frozen next to the back door, Gray Dawn happily munching on some old hay behind her.

_What did I just hear?_

But the answer to that was painfully obvious, and it put such a thrill of anxiety in her chest she momentarily forgot how to breathe. Somehow the Boekhandel's fortune, the fortune that had allowed them to buy most of the town's shops and business markets, was gone because an important ship had gone down, and now Hans was cut off from whatever money he'd been receiving from his parents. That all made sense, but what was truly troubling about this private exchange Elsa had blindly walked into was Anna's role in all of this.

_Hans has to marry someone or else his mother will what…disown him? _

No, that made no sense. What Elsa suspected, instead, was that if Hans married Anna he'd be allowed once again to touch his family's funds…or dip into the money he thought the sisters had.

_A fortune in metal? Really? Everything we have is second hand or made by us out of scraps and what Father brought with him from Arendelle city. Why would Madam Boekhandel think we were somehow hoarding brass and copper? It's not like I can resell any of it for a decent price!_

But that was only half the truth. Elsa knew the metal her father had brought to their new home was worth a fair sum if melted down and purified by the right smith. During a few instances of extreme financial turmoil, the blonde had actually considered melting down her father's machine for money so she and Anna could eat that month but had never had the heart to go through with it. She knew the invention, if gotten to work properly and patented, would secure her and Anna's financial stability for the rest of their lives, so destroying something that valuable wasn't an option Elsa would ever consider again. Apparently, Madam Boekhandel understood the worth of the raw material in Elsa's home, and it was extremely worrying.

_What else does the old witch know about?_

With too many questions buzzing around in her head like a nest of angry hornets—and not near enough answers readily on hand—Elsa decided she'd make sense of this later.

_Maybe Kai will know something, _she thought. If there was one person in all of Sors who constantly had his ear to the ground it was Kai. It was one of the benefits of owning the only hunting lodge in town that served spirits, and it certainly didn't hurt that Elsa was good friends with the lodge owner and his wife, Gerda. Pushing the buzz of questions from her mind, Elsa approach the open back door and peered in, rapping her knuckles on the doorframe in order to get her sister's attention. Anna appeared from around the corner, saw Elsa, started to grin, but seemed to remember she was supposed to be mad at her, and scowled, folding her arms across her chest.

"Oh, nice to see you," the redhead muttered offhandedly, looking away. "What brings you into town from your enormously important duties at home?"

"Really, Anna? We're going to play this game?" Elsa deadpanned, leaning against the doorframe.

"I don't know what you're talking about," Anna sniffed indignantly. "I'm being completely serious."

"Well then, I guess you don't want to eat until dinner, which is shocking for you," the blonde said with a little sideways smile, holding up the bundle her sister had forgotten. Anna looked at it and immediately felt her stomach growl, a not so subtle reminder that she was, in fact, very hungry. But she'd never let her sister know that. Well, that was easier said than done. Apparently, the redhead hadn't been able to keep the hunger from showing on her face because Elsa's warm smile only grew.

"You forgot to eat the breakfast I made for you," the blonde said, leaning in to hand her sister the bundle rather than walking into the shop. She knew she was filthy and didn't want Hans or Madam Boekhandel to pitch a fit because she was getting grease and mud all over the floor.

"So did you," Anna retorted a little more sharply than she anticipated and outwardly winced.

"I'm sorry," Elsa sighed, smile sliding away. Suddenly, she looked about ten years older than she actually was and so very, very tired. She rubbed at her eyes with her thumb and middle finger, attempting to massage away the slight headache starting to build behind her eyes. "I didn't mean to go without you…I just needed time to clear my head. We'll go there together tonight, I promise."

Anna saw the genuine regret on her sister's drawn face and was about to say something when Hans reappeared, took one look at Elsa, and scowled so deeply it was a wonder his eyebrows didn't revolt and leap off his face to attack her.

"What are you doing here?" he demanded, cold anger setting his face like a marble statue. That was one of the scary things about Hans Elsa had caught onto. His temper, though explosive at times, usually ran very, very cold. He was like a reverse powder keg. The angrier he got the colder he became until he finally erupted like an icy volcano.

"Nice to see you too, Hans," Elsa replied with the same level of chill in her voice, matching him stride for stride, though she knew her eyebrows weren't as fierce as his. "I'm bringing my sister her lunch. Does that pose a problem to you, Master Boekhandel?"

"Well, aren't you just the picture of sisterly love and caring," Hans growled, stalking past a suddenly nervous Anna. Madam Boekhandel and her son must have had some kind of deep disagreement during their talk in the alley because Hans had stormed in after his mother and gone to the back of the store to get something, while his mother promptly left out the front door without a word to Anna in her passing.

"Wow, what crawled up your ass and died? Oh wait, let me guess, it was either your pride or your ego. God knows you can only swallow one at a time." Elsa retorted with a half-grin. She knew exactly what was bothering Hans.

"Elsa, what the hell? Stop it," Anna hissed, watching her suitor's face begin to turn different shades of red, a clear indication his temper was on the rise. For whatever reason, her sister was particularly vicious this afternoon, and it bothered her. Granted, Elsa had a naturally sharp tongue—inherited from their father no doubt—but it seemed like the blonde was being purposely antagonistic. Maybe it was just because today was the anniversary, but Anna didn't like or appreciate it. Elsa might not have realize it or even cared, but every time she rankled Hans he'd find a way to take it out on the redhead somehow, and the last thing she wanted was to deal with her irate suitor today.

Hans twisted away from the sisters and reached for a set of keys on the wall beside Anna only to swear and pull back. "Where are the upstairs keys?"

"Oh, sorry. I have them," Anna jumped, reaching into her apron to fish them out.

"Why do _you_ have them?" he demanded, snatching them out of her hand before she could offer them to him.

"I had to unlock the door for the client your mother was speaking to," the redhead explained, a little taken aback but not surprised by her suitor's acidic tone.

_Thanks, Elsa._

"Don't be stupid," Hans snapped. "He wasn't a client; he was a banker, and for the love of God, learn to put things back where you found them. I shouldn't have to remind you how to do your job."

"Hey," Anna frowned, stepped away from him as if she were able to physically feel the burn of his anger. "I get that you're upset about something, but taking it out on me isn't going to make things better. I don't know what you and your mother talked about in the alley, but maybe it would be best if you went home and just left me to finish up the day on my own."

Anna had no idea where that sudden burst of defiant command had come from, but she suddenly felt a hot bloom of empowerment swelling her chest. Rarely did she ever push back or correct her suitor—it was a slight most of the men in the town wouldn't stand for—but when she did it usually yielded mixed results. Sometimes Hans enjoyed when she was acting "feisty", but other times he was quick to shoot her down. So it was safe to say that today her empowerment lasted for about three seconds until she saw the dark look on Hans' face and knew she should have just kept her mouth shut.

"Pet," Hans said, forcing a smile that was anything but pleasant, "when I want your opinion or sage advice, I'll let you know. Until then, do us all a favor and shut the fuck up."

And suddenly the tense electricity sparking between the trio sizzled into a crackling flame.

"You know what, I've just about had it with you!" Elsa suddenly exploded at about the same moment an icy burst of cold wind rushed into the shop; her cerulean orbs glowing with barely contained rage. Despite her small size and unassuming nature, the blonde was no one to be trifled with. As an older sibling, it had been Elsa's job to protect Anna from would-be bullies, and there had been a fair few in Sors while they'd grown up, Hans included when he was in one of his moods. And for three years now she'd watched the book keeper's son bully her sister and treat her like she was an ignorant child just special enough to share the same air as him, and today she'd had enough.

"Who the hell do you think you are? Wait, no, don't strain yourself coming up with an answer, I'll do it for you. You're absolutely nothing, Hans. _Nothing_. I don't care what kind of imaginary power you think your family has, I'm not going to stand here and let you talk to my sister like that. You don't get to treat her like she's your property. You don't get to demand things from her, and you certainly don't get to tell her to 'shut the fuck up'. You will never do that again regardless of whether you're in my presence or not, and do you know why?"

Elsa took another step forward, menace in her eyes, until she was almost standing toe-to-toe with him and lowered her voice so that only he and Anna could hear her. "Because I'll take away your only reason to piss standing up. Anna is _my_ sister, and I won't stand for her to be mistreated by anyone, especially _you_."

For a span of unbelievably tense seconds Anna and Hans just stared at Elsa, neither daring to move. It didn't even appear either of them were breathing, the air sucked from the room like a vacuum in the wake of Elsa's sudden and uncharacteristic behavior.

_Where the hell had that come from?_ Anna thought numbly to herself, her mind slow to process just how quickly the situation was disintegrating. She seemed frozen in a form of mental limbo, stuck between being absolutely furious with her sister for blatantly threatening to cut off Hans' manhood and feeling deeply relieved that, despite it all, her older sister was still there to save the day and stand up for her when it mattered.

_But doesn't she realize she's just making the problem worse?_

Despite Hans being almost a head taller than her, Elsa squared her shoulders and glared up at him, not intimidated in the least even as she watched his face turn from a vibrant red to a livid purple in the span of a few heartbeats. Oh, she wanted him to make the first move and seal his fate. In fact, she itched for it to happen. Elsa would gladly go through with her threat while repeating everything she'd heard Hans and his mother discussing only minutes ago. She would happily ruin the bastard in front of her sister and tear him down brick by infuriating brick until Anna realized what a shallow, egotistical, manipulative jackass Hans really was. But Elsa knew when to choose her battles along with her weapons, and that particularly lethal blow would be saved for a later time.

"You…have a lot of nerve," Hans spat through clenched teeth, his body visibly shaking as he tried to contain himself.

"Funny, it's like looking into a mirror, isn't it?" Elsa retorted like a whip crack.

"Elsa, stop it!" Anna shouted, putting herself between her sister and Hans in an attempt to defuse the situation.

"Why? So you can keep taking his shit like a good little girl? Anna, you're better than that! Papa _taught_ us better than that! How many times did he tell us that no man could ever talk down to us?"

It was true. Both the sisters' mother and father had instilled an iron will in them because it was their firm belief that a woman, no matter the age, should be respected and cherished in all things. Agdar had especially ingrained this in his eldest daughter, teaching her that nothing in life would ever be free and that she couldn't depend on others to stand her ground.

"I'm also eighteen years old, and I can make my own decisions!" the redhead countered, moving forward so that her sister was forced to retreat. "Go home, Elsa. You've brought me my food, which I appreciate, but you're not making things any easier for me right now."

The blonde caught the doorframe as she stepped back and looked at her sister sharply, clearly at war with how to take Anna's request for her to leave.

_Why is she always defending him?_

That was something the blonde desperately wanted to shout but held her tongue; just a glance at her sister was enough to tell Elsa that anything she had to say right about now would fall on deaf ears, and she felt her spirits drop. She knew she'd never get her sister to believe that the man she'd chosen to start a life with was perhaps the worst possible choice.

"Fine," she relented, exhaling through her nose, mouth pressed into a thin line. "Then I'll see you tonight at dinner. Don't be late."

"Yes, fine. Tonight, dinner, won't be late, just go, please," the redhead urged, shooing her out of the store.

Elsa looked back one more time before stepped fully out of the bookstore and walking back towards her tethered horse. Her instincts screamed at her to stay, to physically drag Anna out of the shop and back home to where she could keep her safe, but a part of her wondered if this had little to do with Anna and everything to do with feeling like she was being left behind. Whatever the reason, Elsa hated leaving Anna at the shop as she lead Gray Dawn into the courtyard and over to Kai's lodge to pick up the first of three orders for that night's dinner.

Anna didn't watch her go, instead leaning heavily against the doorframe, unaware that during this entire exchange she'd been standing bare-armed and shouldered in the bitty December cold. Now she could feel the cold and shivered, stepping back to shut the door, feeling Hans' sizzling gaze on the back of her neck like a hot poker.

"Hey, look, I apologize for my sister's—"

Suddenly she was spun around and shoved against the door, Hans' hands gripping her upper arms with such force he was sure to leave bruises. Too stunned for words, Anna looked up and felt her stomach drop through the floor at about the same time her heart went in the opposite direction leapt into her neck. Somehow the words 'monstrous' and 'feral' weren't enough to describe how Hans glared down at her with almost physical force. She would have never before imagined that his level of rage could escalate that far in a matter of seconds, and it scared her more than she realized.

"I'm only going to say this once, so open your fucking ears. Your bitch sister will never speak to me like that again, do you understand?" he demanded in a snarling whisper, leaning down so that he could stare her in the face with his blazing hazel eyes.

"Hans' y-you're hurting—"

"_Do you understand_!?" he bellowed, pulling her towards him only to sharply driver her into the door hard enough that her head bounced off the wood.

"I…y-yes," Anna stammered, attempting to shrink away from him but unable to go anywhere with the door pressed into her back.

"I don't care if you and I are courting; you and your sister will never speak to me like that again, or you and I are through! And you can kiss this job goodbye as well as your house because I'll burn it to the fucking ground. I will never be disrespected like that again. Not by you, not by your sister, and certainly not by my mother. Everything you have is because of me, and I can take it all away just as easily!"

With that he whirled away and snatched up the flowers he'd given her before she could retort—or even breathe for that matter—and stormed out of the shop, slamming the door behind him with such force it was a wonder he didn't break the glass panes, leaving a shaken and suddenly nauseous Anna behind to pick up the pieces.

She didn't move for a long time after that, her legs refusing to return from their current gelatinous state. Eventually the redhead was able to scrape together some semblance of mobility and stumble awkwardly to the counter, using opposite hands to rub the sore spots on her arms just above her elbow from where Hans' thumbs and dug into her skin. The food Elsa had brought her sat forgotten; Anna couldn't eat even if she'd had an appetite. Not now, at least. The world tilting dizzily around her, she stared at the wooden counter, struggling to calm herself enough to keep the sudden onset of tears at bay.

_What did I do wrong?_ Anna wanted to scream, wrapping her arms around her waist to keep from trembling. Why had things gone from bad to worse in a matter of hours? Hans had been upset after his talk with his mother, but it was a manageable anger Anna had dealt with before. She really couldn't blame him for lashing out—Anna rationalized it was only natural—but that didn't mean it hadn't scared her half to death. Despite her best efforts, she couldn't help but recall similar instances where her suitor had looked at her with a level of near malevolence… had touch her in such a harsh way. It had been during his birthday celebration and he had—

_No! That was a mistake. I was just in the wrong place at the wrong time._

Anna pushed away from the counter and went into the stack, seeking solace in the forest of knowledge and reason.

_He was fine until his mother dragged him out of the store and Elsa showed up,_ she surmised bitterly, attempting to arrange the pieces back together into a picture that didn't paint Hans in the dark light her subconscious reason was trying to trick her into believing.

_He's not a villain. He's just stressed and tired, and Elsa pushed him…again. His mother also doesn't help matters. She's as venomous as a snake and twice as twisted. I'm not really surprised he came back angry after talking with her. I can't stand to be around her for more than five minutes. Imagine having to _live_ with that woman. _

Feeling her pulse slowing to a regular rhythm, Anna set about completing the last of her projects for the day. A few wayward customers wandered in, but most of them were just returning borrowed books and didn't stay long. Eventually closing time rolled around as the sun sank below the horizon, casting long shadows over the circular courtyard that were only partially banished when the oil lamps were lit soon after sunset. Anna had just finished getting the last of her nightly chores done and had stepped outside to lock the door when she felt a presence behind her. Familiar though it was, she still jumped a full foot into the air and pressed herself against the door.

"Hans," she breathed in a rush, feeling the heavy weight of fear drop into her stomach. It only lasted for a moment, however, until she realized he was standing at a respectful distance and look rather…contrite? His head was lowered—hands shoved deep in his pockets—and his shoulders were slumped. He glanced up at her briefly before looking back down at his feet and screwing up his face in an uncomfortable grimace.

"I…" he began but seemed to lose what he was about to say and slumped further into his defeated stance.

Despite her obvious reservations about getting close to him due to his previous violent outburst, the redhead felt something fall away inside her as she watched him shuffle his feet like a remorseful child.

"Hans I…I need to go home," she began, instinctively glancing at the warmly lit courtyard behind him to see if anyone was around. "Please, let's not do this tonight."

The book keeper's son took a deep breath, seemed to gather together whatever shreds of dignity he had left and said, "Anna, look, you have every reason to be angry with me. I've been a complete ass to you today, and I'm sorry for how I treated you this afternoon. It was wrong of me to have raised my voice. You deserve better of me, and I failed you."

_Well that's a shocking twist._

It wasn't like Hans to apologize for anything. One of the less than stellar traits of her suitor that Anna couldn't brush aside or rationalize was the fact that Hans came across as very entitled. He was handsome and he knew it. His family was wealthy, and he oftentimes used that to his advantage. It was infuriating and embarrassing for Anna when he got the itch to remind people how much better off he was, so for him to come to her and openly apologize was shocking to say the least.

Still, Anna didn't know if she could believe him or not because the fear he'd instilled in her was still there, coiled in her stomach like an icy snake. He'd scared her, of that she was certain, but something in the way he was holding himself, so broken and defeated, made Anna think twice about the sharp response forming on her tongue.

"Hans, I don't—"

"Please, let me make it up to you," he blurted, taking a step towards her, a hopeful glow in his eyes. "I really have been a complete ass and want to make things right. I know it's the anniversary of your parents' death and all but—"

"Then you know I need to get home," Anna quickly interrupted. "It's Elsa and my tradition to have dinner together tonight."

"But you do that every night," he argued, still looking hopeful.

"I know, but tonight's different. We visit the graves together after we eat and leave flowers and candles. I can't just walk away from that. I can't just walk away from them."

_Even though I really don't feel like going home right about now and dealing with a snippy sister over a meager meal, _Anna thought about saying but decided to keep that to herself.

"Anna, can you answer something truthfully for me?" Hans asked with a level of sincerity that again shocked her. "Do you really think your parents' would want you to mourn their deaths or celebrate their life?"

The redhead frowned. "I'm not sure what you mean."

"I did a lot of thinking after I left here this afternoon."

"That's a dangerous pastime for you," Anna said, feeling a slight smile pull at her lips.

"I know," Hans smiled back, "but honestly. We always mourn the dead. We always weep over their memories and lament about not having had enough time with them while they were alive. But do the dead really want us to do that? Your parents' loved you and your sister. I'm sure they'd want you to get out of the house and actually smile for a change rather than cry in the dark. They'd want to see you happy, not see you cooped up in your empty house crying over their memory."

At first the proposition seemed utterly preposterous. Of course you mourn the death of a loved one. How else were you supposed to bleed yourself of the seemingly endless amounts of grief building in the body, but the more Anna thought about it the more her previous logic didn't seem to make sense in the wake of Hans' revelation. Her father had always been a jovial man, quick to joke and always laughing, while her mother was forever singing and smiling. They'd lived their lives to the fullest without many regrets—at least none she knew about—so it wasn't difficult to believe that this sad tradition she and Elsa had started went against what their parents' wanted out of their children. Surely they'd want to see Elsa and Anna happy, celebrating their lives and being together with friends during the anniversary, not closed off in their house alone with only Olaf for company.

"What did you have in mind?" Anna asked warily, folding her arms across her chest.

Hans suddenly seem to light up from within and looped his arm around hers, guiding her towards the hunting lodge on the other side of the snow-dusted square. "Have a drink with me and a few friends. That's all. One drink and I'll take you back to your house to be with your sister. But before that we'll celebrate the lives of your parents' and drink to their memory."

"Are you sure about this?"

"The better question is: are you? Are you sure you want to spend the evening in morose silence or remembering the happy times?"

"Okay, I see your point, but only one drink," Anna warned, trying to make herself sound sterner than she actually felt. It was, however, rather difficult with the smile slowly starting to spread across her face as she leaned on Hans' shoulder. Without her even noticing, the fear and stress of the day seemed to be lifting, and it was the most welcome feeling I the world.

"On drink," he agreed, guiding her through the snow towards the glimmering golden windows of the lodge.

* * *

><p>Elsa checked her pocket watch again and frowned, rubbing her forehead with her fingertips. Anna was an hour late, and the blonde was beginning to suspect this was a purposeful slight and felt her already frayed nerves stretch a just a little thinner. Her sister had been plenty angry at her before she'd gone to the bookshop to drop off her lunch, but after Elsa's explosion at Hans, Anna had been positively livid and told her to go home. The older girl had been reluctant to leave but knew that bucking back against her sister when her blood was up would have likely gotten her nowhere or thrown head first into a screaming match. So she'd complied and went about the rest of her errands for the afternoon, but that had been hours ago. Surely Anna's temper had quelled some since their encounter? However, Anna was extraordinarily late, and it was starting to feel as if the redhead were proving a point.<p>

_"I'm also eighteen years old, and I can make my own decisions!"_

Was that what she'd done? Made a decision to abandon a three year tradition in lieu of something else? Elsa swallowed around her itchy throat, coughing to clear it, and sat back heavily in her chair.

_There is a distinct possibility that's the case,_ she thought with a sad frown.

Then again, there had been instances in the recent past where Madam Boekhandel had made Anna stay late at the bookshop for various reasons, and Elsa wouldn't put it past the old witch to keep her sister late on the anniversary out of some vindictive form of spite.

_One of these days that horrible woman will be out of our lives for good, and we'll leave this godforsaken town behind._

_ Unless he marries Anna, _an unwanted voice in the back of her head whispered, making her go cold.

Yes, unless Hans proposed to Anna, which Elsa had no doubt he would now do very, very soon if the conversation Elsa had eavesdropped on earlier that afternoon was anything to go by. The thought made Elsa physically queasy. To have Hans as a brother-in-law…it was beyond disgusting, it was downright disturbing.

Sighing heavily, the blonde leaned forward and planted her elbows on the table, eyes sweeping over the sumptuous spread of food lying before her untouched before shifting and looking out at the darkness beyond the kitchen window.

_I can wait another ten minutes, _she told herself. Flicking open her pocket watch, she made note of the time and watched the minute hand steadily creep around the clock face. One minute passed, then five, then seven…then finally ten.

"Alright, this is ridiculous," Elsa growled, snapping her pocket watch closed and pushing herself out of her chair. Olaf, who had been snoring happily by the fire, lifted his shaggy head and whoofed at her as she made for the door.

"I know; she's not back yet."

Whoof!

"It's probably is that cur keeping her late. I swear the woman's been out to get us since before we came to Sors."

Snatching her cloak from the hook by the door, Elsa was about to step outside but stopped and looked down at the dress she was wearing and hesitated. Rarely did the blonde ever wear anything outside her usual fair of work clothes, but today was a special day and she wanted to look special for her sister. Now, however, the clothes she'd donned for the occasion made her feel awkward and just a little bit exposed despite her being covered from neck to ankle in heavy cotton fabric. Dresses hadn't been a part of her wardrobe for almost thirteen years, and for good reason. Elsa wasn't even sure she'd be able to ride Gray Dawn into town with it on—to her it felt as if she were wearing an awkward wrap of sheets around her body, the fabric moving differently than her usual clothes—and contemplated going up and changing.

_You'll only be a few minutes. No one will see you._

Slinging her cloak over her shoulders, Elsa stepped out into an oppressively dark December night and walked to the barn. She saddled Gray Dawn quickly and set off at a gallop towards town, grinning into the wind despite feeling the rise of turmoil emotions the closer she got to town. One of the brightest moments in the blonde's young life had been her rides on the big Clydesdale. It had been one of the few moments she'd actually felt free, and even now Elsa couldn't stop grinning as she leaned into the wind and felt the sting of snowflakes pricking the smooth skin of her face and the aggressively cold air in her lungs as her customary braid snapped behind her like pale tail.

Coming into the town square at a steady trot, Gray Dawn's iron shoes clopping loudly against the cobblestones, Elsa didn't bother to dismount, preferring to ride up to the bookshop and park herself there until her sister came out. However, the closer she got to the shop the deeper her confusion became and the farther her heart sunk. The closed sign had been flipped over, and even worse, the windows were dark and there didn't appear to be any life within. It didn't dawn on her that she'd been staring at the shop for a few speechless moments until a gust of wind touched the sign above her head, making the iron hinges creak and groan.

_If Anna isn't here, _Elsa began to deduce, her previously frozen mind starting move again, _then where could she…_

She had no idea what had compelled her to look in the direction of the hunting lodge, but the moment she did everything snapped into place with an almost painful click. Suddenly, Elsa knew exactly where Anna was and was torn between being so indignantly angry she'd actually spit teeth and just leaving well enough alone and riding back home.

_Well now, don't you look the fool? Riding into town like some valiant knight, again, only to discover that your sister has been rescued by another._

Rescued was hardly how she'd put what had happened. Kidnapped was more her taste, and the blonde knew instinctively that this was all Hans' doing. Leave it to the son of perhaps the vilest woman in town to ruin an evening that was supposed to be sacred to two grieving women. So a fuming Elsa turned her mount in the direction of the lodge and dismounted beside the frozen-over water trough next to the tether pole. Sliding off the tall creature's back was a bit of a challenge in a dress, and Elsa was suddenly immensely happy the courtyard was deserted when her skirt rode up a bit too high around her waist, exposing her pale legs and thighs while she struggled to get both feet on the ground.

Kai's hunting lodge was a popular gathering place in Sors and had been a favorite haunt for the sister's father while he was in town gathering supplies or celebrating the holidays with his family. Rarely did the Erfinder family venture into town together, but exceptions were made for Samhain, the week-long Yule celebration, and a few other festivals Sors celebrated throughout the year. Most of them were always conducted near or in Kai's lodge, so Elsa was very familiar with the building. However, it had been almost three years since she'd last set foot into it, preferring to pick up the supplies Gerda usually procured for her from different vendors outside the lodge. It wasn't because Elsa disliked Kai and Gerda, quite the opposite, but the same could not be said for the regulars who frequented the lodge and saw Elsa and her sister as strange outsiders either not worth their time or a curious oddity they wanted to explore.

Gathering herself before she entered, Elsa took a breath and pushed the door open, temporarily blinded by the bright light that spilled through the door like water through a broken dam along with the sound of revelry, clinking glasses, rancorous shouts, and the unmistakable smell of stale mead and liquor. Eyes fully adjusted, the blonde closed the door behind her and looked around, realizing that nothing had really changed. The lodge was longer that it was wide, a single story building with a high, raftered ceiling, plank-wood walls, and wrought iron chandeliers packed with twenty or more oil lamps hanging in intervals along the beams.

Elsa found herself smiling up at the chandeliers. She and her father had come up with their design years ago for Kai. The lodge keeper had run out of patience with traditional wax candles dripping on his patrons but couldn't figure out a way to light his lodge without them. Agdar had suggested forging a long, circular, hollow brass trough that could be filled with lamp oil. He then attached twenty of more wicks and glass shunts over the wicks like traditional oil lamp, securing each with a dial that could be turned to control the level of oil burned on the wicks. In short, Kai had hanging lighting he could light and extinguish easily once adjusted that would burn cleaner than candles and with absolutely no mess. Elsa was proud of the invention because she'd helped develop it, working with her father for about a week tweaking the design. Kai had been abundantly grateful, solidifying his friendship with Agdar and his daughter. Years later, Kai was one of the only people in Sors who made it a point to talk with the inventor's daughters and helped them as much as he could.

The rest of the lodge was rustically furnished with handmade chairs and long wooden benches constructed from various pieces of mismatched wood. A long, polished bar sat directly left of the door, the dark mahogany wood worn smooth from thousands of hands and elbows resting against it over the years. All-in-all, the hunting lodge didn't appear to have very many hunting aspects to it until Elsa looked towards the back of the building and saw hundreds of dead eyes staring back at her. Regardless of its significance, the wall of trophies always seemed to unnerve her. Obviously she knew hunting was a necessity to life—everyone needed to eat—but these kills weren't always used for the procuring of essential sustenance. In fact, the blonde was fairly certain the hunters who had decorated this wall killed more for sport, and that was something she couldn't and wouldn't tolerate. Hunting for food was one thing; hunting for the sole purpose of mounting the head on a plaque of wood and nailing it to a wall while leaving the meat to rot in the woods was a completely different entity.

Luckily the blonde didn't have to stare at the wall for long. An explosion of loud laughter and cheering drew her gaze to the only occupied table in the lodge and the seven or more men sitting around one very wobbly, very giggly redhead. Despite her best efforts, Elsa felt her face and neck begin to redden, a telltale sign her temper was on the rise. Movement out of the left corner of her eye drew her attention to Kai as he came in from the back room behind the bar and stopped when he saw Elsa. His face, usually friendly, was stoic this evening, perhaps even betraying a little anger. When he saw Elsa, however, his expression instantly turned regretful and he glanced in the direction of the redhead and her entourage, visibly wincing. Nodding once, Elsa strode forward, making a bee-line directly towards her sister, but she didn't get within ten feet of the table before some of the men, Hans included, noticed her stormy approach.

"Look! Elsa's here!" Hans suddenly exclaimed with a jovial smile, lifting his pewter mug into the air in a drunken greeting. "She's decided to join us rather than staying cooped up in the dreary house of hers! Good for you, Elsa dear! Good for you!"

The blonde froze, unsure how to take his greeting. By all accounts, Hans should still be furious with her, but he seemed to have done a complete turn-around since last she saw him. What was even stranger was how his entourage took to seeing her. Elsa recognized a few faces and could name just as many. The rest she'd never seen before but put it out of her mind.

"Haha! Elsa!" Anna beamed, slapping the table and making the rest of the glasses—nearly thirteen by Elsa shocked count—quiver. "Hey come an have a drink! Hans said he's buying but-I-suspect he's lying a little bit, but tha's okay cause Kai's opened up a tab. Hey," she made a shooing motion with her hands at the men across the table from her, "move over so my sister can—wait…what are you wearing?" Anna squinted, leaning so far forward it was a wonder she didn't fall off the bench. "It looks like a potato sack."

Elsa felt her cheeks warm—she'd been afraid of this—but raised her chin nonetheless. "It's mother old dress, remember."

"No," the redhead giggled, "I certainly do not remember that. Why are you wearing it? I thought you were more partial to pants."

The blonde fought to appear as if her sister's blatant jab hadn't struck a raw nerve. Yes, Elsa was more partial to wearing men's clothing for two reasons: one, while working, men's clothing tended to be more practical and less liable to catch on instrument and tools; and two, it fit the persona she had learned to maintain at all times like a mask that could never falter or fall. As the first born, Elsa's responsibility for continuing her father's work was something that almost went without saying. She'd been born with Agdar's talents and inherent skill at creating things, his mind for memory, and his sharp eye for detail. But the trouble wasn't the fact that Elsa had these talents and enjoyed openly using her skills, it was the fact she was born female that posed a problem. Skilled or not, the blonde had learned at a very young age that being born a girl wasn't necessarily a blessing, especially when going into business alongside her father.

"You are a woman, Elsa," Agdar had explained one evening a few years after their move to Sors. Elsa had run to him in near tears, retelling her story about how none of the children in town had believed she'd install Kai's new hanging lamp chandeliers.

"But what does that have anything to do with it?" she'd sobbed into his chest, curled in his lap in a tight ball. "Why does it matter?"

"Because we live in a world where women are believed to be less than a man. I had hoped to spare you the injustice of this knowledge for a few more years, but there it is. The world will always see you as a lesser person because you were born differently, which is foolish and hurtful. Believe me, daughter of mine, when I tell you that you are better than any man who will ever walk this earth it's the God's honest truth, but no one else will believe it."

"So I can't do anything without being a man," little Elsa had sighed, feeling absolutely crushed.

"Absolutely not," Agdar had said firmly, lifting his daughter's chin with his fingers. "Listen to me, Elsa. Your skills will only grow as you grow, but unless you look and act the part, you will never be taken seriously or have your voice heard. You must be bolder than the people around you. You must never lower your eyes; you must never submit, because the moment you do is the moment you are passed over and forgotten no matter how great your creations are. There will come a time when I am no longer with you, and when that happens it will be up to you to take care of yourself and your sister, so you must learn this hard lesson now."

Little Elsa had merely nodded, not fully understanding the wisdom her father was trying to impart on her but taking what she could to heart. From that point on her entire persona shifted; a night and day transformation that stripped away the carefree young girl and replaced her with a determined, willful, outspoken young woman. Of course there were moments when Elsa enjoyed dressing up and looking pretty—she did, after all, live in an era where outward beauty was cherished and envied and Elsa, like her sister, was an exceptionally beautiful young woman—but she quickly realized the respect her father seemed to have effortlessly gained wasn't afforded to her freely, and more often than not, when she dressed in clothes that there more appropriate for her gender, she was overlooked and forgotten. After her father's death, when Elsa had to take his place as inventor and sole provider for her and Anna, the blonde had lost over half a dozen potential clients for the simple, infuriating reason she was a woman and therefore couldn't possible know or perform as well as her late father could.

"What are you doing here, Anna? We had plans this evening," Elsa said, evading the jab regarding her choice of attire that evening.

"Well, Hans wanted ah drink cause of the little spat we had earlier," she explained, her words slurred more than usual. "An he said that I should be celebrating! We always to the same things every year." Anna pantomimed with her hands as she spoke, "Get up, an not look at each other. Go to work an be sad. Come home an eat dinner while not looking at each other. Go the graves while not looking at each other. Cry a little. Go home. You sit in Papa's big chair an stare at his pocket watch while I sit in Mama's chair an watch you watching the fire and it's all so sad and depressing and just…blah! So-I-thought, well, it was actually Hans who suggested it—hey…hey, watch where your putting your hands," Anna warned in a fit of giggles, pushing her suitor's wandering hands—which had begun to slide up her thigh, bunching her skirts around her waist—away before she continued talking, "but Hans had this _awesome_ idea about coming here to celebrate our parents' rather than cry over them. And so here I am, and now you're here! We can all celebrate together!"

Elsa felt her mouth hanging open and promptly shut it, aware she was beginning to shiver as she stood in front of her beaming sister and the leering men seated at the table. Her hands twitched at her side, itching to reach up and tug on the long braid slung over her shoulder. It was a nervous habit she'd been unable to break herself of, and was particularly difficult to forego in the face of her mountain anger. To say she was beside herself would have been an understatement. She'd made the trek into town, at night, in the dead of a bitter December winter, thinking she was going to find her sister at the shop roped into staying because of her boss but rather discovered she'd decided to forgo their three year long tradition and go drinking.

_Everything I've done, I've done for you,_ Elsa wanted to scream while she attempted to shake some semblance of sanity—or at the very least dignity—back into her sister. But somehow she knew that again her words would fall on deaf ears. She did her best to reign in her quickly banking temper and smothered it under a cold blanket of brittle reason and sisterly authority, though she wasn't able to keep her anger from lightening her eyes until they almost glowed.

"Anna, I think your celebrating is done for tonight," Elsa managed to say without clenching her teeth, though her fists were knuckle-white balls at her side. "We need to go home."

"No, but you just got here!" Anna whined, pewter mug filled with…something stopped just shy of her lips. "Come on, Elsa, have a drink with us. Just tell Kai to put it on my tab." The redhead raised a hand to wave happily at Kai who didn't return her jovial smile, his keen eyes watching the group as he continued to stock the bar. A couple of the men at the table seconded Anna's suggestion, though it seemed they were more interested in watching Elsa try and wrangle her sister, a few of them giving the blonde leering smiles while they whispered to those closest to them. Elsa caught things like, "…didn't know she knew how to dress like a woman" and "I'd like to watch her try and walk to the bar in that dress. Maybe we'd actually get to see that fine ass of hers" drift from the table and steeled herself, accepting the jabs as best she could. Though the sting of such open rejection and ridicule was a tough pill to swallow, and she didn't know how much more of this she could take. She knew she was in a vulnerable position and yearned to be back in her normal clothes and the shreds of respect they gave her.

"It's time to go," Elsa said again, this time putting an edge to her voice that cut through the chatter like a hot knife through lard. "Get your cloak, little sister."

"I'm not going anywhere," Anna snapped, setting her mug down a little harder than planned, sloshing the liquid inside all over her hand and table.

"You heard her," Hans sneered, sliding his arms around the redhead's waist, wide hands splayed against her stomach while his head rested on her shoulder. Elsa couldn't help but notice that the first four sections of Anna's bodice were unlaced, allowing a scandalous view of her sister's amble bust to peek through the gaps in the fabric. "She wants to stay with us. So why don't you do as she says for once and got get a drink from Kai. After all, she _is_ paying for it."

"Hans," Elsa spat, spearing him with a look that could have felled a charging reindeer at a hundred paces, "if I wanted your opinion I'd ask for it. Until then, shut up." Then to her sister she said, "This isn't up for discussion, Anna. I'd like to speak to you outside before we go."

The blonde could see her sister's shoulder beginning to set in her familiar show of defiance, could see Anna's beautiful blue eyes harden into chips of colored glass. Elsa knew what was about to happen—had seen and experience it many times before—so rather than let Anna get the breath she needed to begin her newest tirade, the older girl reached out and grabbed ahold of her sister's wrist in a vice-like grip and hauled her to her feet with a sharp tug. The sudden motion put the redhead off balance for a split second, which was more than enough time for Elsa to begin dragging her towards the door.

"Hey! What ish your problem!?" she slurred, managing to wrenched away on her third attempt, rubbing her red wrist while glaring volcanic daggers at her older sister. Elsa, however, was impervious to the heat of Anna's anger and stared at her coolly, ice and fire erupting between them. Anna tottered a bit, arms pinwheeling, but once a general sense of balance was regained, she raised her chin in an anticipated show of youthful defiance. "Anything you have to say you can say in front of my friends."

A hearty cheer went up from the table, glasses clinking as if in agreement to Anna's statement, which only served to further drive the stake of anger deeper into her sister's heart.

"That's right, love!" Hans cackled, giving the redhead a firm slap on the butt as he staggered towards the bar. "Let her know whose boss!"

"See," Anna motioned towards the table and her suitor with a wide grin on her face, "my _friends_ agree. Now, what ish it you wanna say to me, hmm? Let's hear it."

"You think these people are your friends?" Elsa gaped with incredulous disgust. "You think they give a _damn_ about you?"

"I think you're jealous that I actually _have_ friends," Anna countered, planting her hands on her hips. That was a mistake.

"Outside. Now." This time, Elsa didn't give her the chance to pull away, grabbing the front of her partially unlaced bodice and physically dragging her towards the door. Anna protested loudly, tugging at the blonde's hold on her and trying to twist free. She was, however, a little too intoxicated to untangle her sister's fingers from her clothing and was eventually dragged into the cold night air and shoved onto the porch.

"Damn it, Elsa, let go! You can't just drag me around like I'm Olaf! I'm not your pet!"

"Funny because I'm fairly certain Olaf has made better life choices than you have in the past three hours. What do you think you're doing, Anna? You know what tonight means to us."

"I'm celebrating," Anna declared, waving towards the lodge.

"Celebrating what?"

"Mama and Papa's life! I'm celebrating their life rather than mourning."

"How is getting drunk in a hunting lodge surrounded by people you hardly know and who hardly know you celebrating anything but your own ignorance and selfishness? Tonight isn't just about you, Anna! I'm here too! And stop purposely slurring your words. You're not _that_ drunk. If you were, you'd be vomiting and unable to stand, remember?"

Anna opened her mouth as if to retort, thought better of it, and promptly shut it. "Oh of course," she drawled instead, her intoxicated manor dropping away like a mask thrown aside. "How could I have forgotten about _you_?" she ranted, mouth twisted in an angry snarl. "It's always been about _you_. Everything has been about _you_ ever since we moved to this town. Always _you_ and Papa. Always _you_ and him in the shed working in his inventions. Mama always had to take care of _you_ when your stupid sickness came around again, _but what about me_?! What about what _I_ want?"

"No," Elsa seethed, vibrating with rage and pointed dangerously at her sister, "you do not get to use me as a scapegoat for your own personal dilemmas. This isn't about me, Anna. It's never been about me! This is about you making a mockery of our parents' memory on the anniversary of their death! This is about you acting like a belligerent child rather than the grown woman you are!"

"Don't you dare talk down to me!" Anna shouted in return, advancing towards the older woman. "You're not Mama and Papa. You can't make these choices for me! If I want to spend the evening drinking with my suitor and his friends then I'll damn well do it, and there isn't a damn thing you can do about it!"

"And where, pray tell, are you going to get the money to pay for these drinks, Anna? From the cheap coin you make working for Madam Boekhandel?" Elsa inquired icily, first clenched.

"At least I have a job! The only thing you've ever done is work on Papa's stupid invention and waste your life trying to make something work when it never will! At least I'm bringing in some type of income."

Elsa suddenly barked with such cynical laughter it was a wonder ice didn't spread under her feet. "You actually think your measly earnings from the bookshop are what're paying for our house or our food? Let me enlighten you, dear sister. Everything you have, every scrap of clothing, every crumb of food, every log you carelessly throw onto the fire has come from what I make selling my clocks. Everything you have is thanks to _me_. And that stupid invention? That scrap heap in the workshop you keep referring to as worthless? The man who commissioned Papa to make that invention has been paying me for three years so I can get it working. Every month for three years he sends payment like clockwork, so don't you stand there and preach at me that you're the sole provide for our home. That shit coin you're making working for your suitor's mother doesn't even cover your cost of labor, and what little actually trickles back to us is usually gone before it even touches your hand because you can't remember to take your books back and rack up your earned wages in late fees! So perhaps you should think twice about what money you think you have and who you choose to spend it on, because at the end of the day _I'm_ the one taking care of you, not _him_!"

For a brief span of seconds Anna merely stared at her sister, too stunned for words because of Elsa's revelation. She knew she should stop the conversation here and just walk away. In fact, a larger part of herself wanted to do exactly that, but the redhead was tenacious at the best of times and that unrelenting spirit reared its head at exactly the wrong time and decided that the conversation—which was quickly spiraling out of control—would only end when she declared herself victor.

"Taking care of me?! We barely have enough food in the house to make a meal, so where is all this magical coin, Elsa? If you're supposedly making so much money you can support the both of us, why can't we have decent food and buy new clothes rather than reuse old rags?"

"I can see you're conveniently forgetting that there's more to owning a home and property than you think. I have to pay for the house and the tax on the land, Anna, and there's also my medicine—"

"Oh yes, you're medicine. Because you just get _so_ sick," Anna snapped, and suddenly all Elsa could see was Hans looking back at her through her sister's eyes. "It's a wonder you can do anything at all with how frequently ill you are."

Elsa felt the sting of her sister's rebuke as if she'd been physically struck. Anna had never used her illness as leverage during a fight until today, and the blonde felt both shameful of her condition and enraged that Anna would stoop so low. She felt the onset of tears and fought them back, determined to remain in control.

"You know what? I'm done talking to you because this conversation is circular. I just want to go home. That's all."

"And I just want to go back inside and be with my friends, so one of us isn't going to get their way tonight."

"Damn it, Anna! Why can't you just give me this one thing? I don't ask much—"

"You ask more than you realize—"

"I just want us to be together toni—"

"Why? So we can sit and cry and wish for things we can't have? Mama and Papa aren't coming back, Elsa! They're—"

"Because I don't know how much longer I have!" the blonde suddenly blurted without realizing what she'd said until it had flown from her lips.

"Good! Leave!" the redhead shouted, apparently not hearing what her sister had just said, or choosing to ignore it as pure drama. "Go home and be with your ghosts. I'm staying here. I'll be home whenever I feel like coming home."

Taken aback by her callousness—Anna heard what she'd accidentally said, right?—Elsa reached for her sister, unsure why she suddenly needed to touch her. "Anna, wait—"

"I told you no!" the redhead exploded and shoved her backwards. Whether or not she meant to put that much force into her shove, Elsa stumbled backwards regardless and caught the edge of the water trough behind her. One second she was standing and the next her left hand was plunging through at least a three quarters of an inch of ice as she tried to catch herself, freezing cold water soaking into the fabric of her heavy dress, taking her breath away. She felt cold fire engulf her left hand and swore.

Struggling a bit because of the awkwardness of moving in a dress, the blonde managed to slide out of the trough on her second try, streams of arrestingly cold water rolling down her neck, back, and side, chilling her to the bone. Anna had either not seen her sister fall into the water or didn't care because the last of the redhead Elsa saw was the back of her head as she stormed back into the lodge and slammed the door behind her. Elsa stood dripping wet in the December dark, trembling and in pain, listening to the laughter drifting towards her from the golden windows. Never had she felt so alone and utterly shut out. Hanging her head, she lifted her left hand into the light and fought back a sob. Most of the blood had been washed away by the water, but that only made the lacerations scattered all over her hand and palm look all the worse. Gently she tried to flex her fingers and winced, stinging pain lancing up her arm as fresh rivulets of blood streaked down her pale skin.

_How am I going to work now?_

A rancorous bought of laughter broke the silence as if the people inside were openly taunting her, and Elsa turned sharply away, tears rolling down her face. Cold, soaking wet, bleeding and humiliated, she walked back the way she'd come, fighting back heavy shivers as her wet clothes began to freeze. Awkwardly she untethered Gray Dawn, trying not to use her damaged hand as much as possible, and climbed onto his back, steering him in the direction of home and urging him into a trot. Just shy of the town line where the cobblestone gave way to rugged dirt roads, the first rattling cough worked free of the blonde's chest. Clutching the front of her dress, Elsa urged her mount to go faster, feeling the sickness settling into her bones like a vulture alighting on a branch. A second wet cough wracked her frame, doubling her over in the saddle as she fought to remain upright, fought to remain breathing as the fever swept in like a rip current, warming her cheeks with a false sense of heat while stealing the warmth from the rest of her body. It usually didn't come on this quickly, but Elsa surmised it had been lingering at the fringes of her wellness for a few weeks now looking for an opportunity to strike her when she was at her lowest.


	5. Chapter 4

Anna felt the door slam behind her like a crack of thunder and pressed her back against it as if preparing to hold off a charging mob. Her head bounced against the course wood as she leaned back and exhaled gustily in a futile attempt to calm her racing pulse and the pounding in her ears. Distantly she felt the prick of tears and blinked rapidly to clear her eyes of moisture, determined not to let her erratic emotions get the best of her.

_Too late for that._

Anna couldn't remember ever feeling this angry at anyone before, and the sensation wasn't a pleasant one. The sheer nerve of how her sister had treated her in front of Hans and his friends was galling. She wasn't a child anymore regardless of what her sister thought, but there was no convincing Elsa of that. Apparently, the older girl was slow to realize that the redhead was eighteen and could do as she pleased, and if that meant breaking tradition in lieu of something new then so be it. Anna was under no false assumption that she had to please Elsa at every turn, but regardless of how many times Anna told herself she was right for rebuffing Elsa's attempts at proving her wrong, the younger girl couldn't help but feel like tonight things had gotten out of hand.

_I'm tired of being treated like an infant. For once, I just want to be respected. Is that so much to ask for from family?_

Swallowing against the sudden dryness of her throat, Anna stole another quick breath—the scent of wood smoke, stale ale, and pipe smoke creeping into her nose— and stared into the shadowy rafters above. Slowly her eyes traveled down from the ceiling, across the eerily staring trophy wall, and over to the table where Hans and his friends were still conversing loudly amongst themselves, hearty bouts of laughter rolling from the men as they told jokes and stories in equal measure. It didn't appear as if they'd noticed her reentrance into the lodge, but that was no matter. At least the redhead had the rest of the evening to spend celebrating in the manor that appealed to her and quickly walked back over to the table, determined to enjoy herself and not let the fight with her sister ruin things.

"Did you see what she was _wearing_?" Anna heard one of the men—Harris if she was remembering his name right—cackle and slowed her approach. "One of you owes me money because I'm sure we all made bets that crazy bitch didn't own a _single_ dress."

"My guess is the entire town is in on that bet," another man snickered between gulps of ale that slipped out of the corners of his mouth.

"Good thing you bagged yourself the right sister, Hans. Elsewise I'm not sure who would be the man in the relationship 'cause there's no telling what swings between her legs!"

"Just a look at her tits is enough to know she's probably got bigger balls than you," Harris laughed, shoving Hans playfully in the shoulder. The book keeper's son shook with laughter that didn't stop until he saw Anna standing next to the table, frowning deeply.

"Haha! You made it back in without your clinger-on!" he cheered, beckoning the redhead closer with a sloppy wave of the arm. When she didn't move from her spot he reached forward, wrapping the same arm around her waist, and pulled her to him. "I'm glad you didn't go with her. You deserve to be happy tonight. And speaking of happy," Hans frowned down into this tankard, "I'm sadly low of ale. Go get me some more, would you? I mean, since you're paying for it and all, I might as well get my money's worth, no?"

"I don't see any braces on your legs, and I said I was paying for _one _drink," Anna shot back without thinking, her blood still up from the fight she'd just walked back in from. She felt Hans suddenly stiffen but couldn't bring herself to care at the moment.

"Now, pet, I taught you better than that," he chuckled dryly. "It's not polite to talk-back to your betters. Now, be a good girl and get me a refill. We can't properly celebrate without spirits now can we?" Before she could object, Hans pressed his semi-empty tankard into Anna's hands and pushed her to her feet, shooing her away like a parent shoos away an annoying child before turning back to his sniggering friends.

His ego-driven audacity alone was enough to temporarily stun her, but it was at that singularly glaring moment that reality seemed to snap back with all the force of a charging bull. Anna realized with a hot flare of anger and humiliation that tonight really had nothing to do with her. It was all just some big joke, and she was the heart of it. She was just the patsy, just the excuse for Hans to drink with his friends while someone else footed the bill, and she'd fallen for his ruse like the gullible child she was.

_Why did I let myself think things would be different?_ she thought, forcing herself not to grit her teeth in frustration. _Well to hell with him and his friends!_

Without a word, Anna took the tankard and planted it firmly upside down in front of her suitor, insuring that, should he attempt to lift the glass, the rest of the ale trapped inside would undoubtedly soak the table and his trousers in the process. It was a cheap blow, but Anna would savor whatever instant victory she could get at the moment.

"I'm not your bar wench, and I'm certainly not your _pet_," she hissed leaning in close, her nails scraping against the rough-wood table as she closed her hands into fists. "And the sooner you realize that the better it will be for you. Get your own damn ale."

In a flourish of red hair and snapping fabric she spun away before Hans could so much as blink and stalked over to the bar, face on fire from a scarlet flush that had nothing to do with alcohol. The lodge had suddenly gone eerily quiet, Hans' friends thrown into mute surprise as they watched the redhead's fiery display of defiance. A few exchanged knowing glances, but the rest merely watched with barely contained amusement, sniggering into their tankards or around the stems of their pipes.

Anna chose a bar stool at random and climbed up into it. Despite facing away from the table, the redhead could still feel the weight of Hans' glare on the back of her head and fought to keep her posture defiantly rigid to show him she still had steel in her spine despite feeling suddenly queasy. Any second now Anna anticipated her suitor to erupt like he had earlier that afternoon and internally braced for it. It was one thing to defy him in the privacy of an empty room; it was quite another to do so in front of his friends and 'colleagues'. No doubt the cretins Hans surrounded himself with would let him forget this moment, serving to only perpetuate the building rage simmering away inside him. Suddenly, Anna felt as if she were standing at the crumbling edge of a precipice, the void opening to swallow her whole. She had no real place to go to weather the oncoming storm, and no lasting protection with which to hide under. It had been a long time since she'd felt this alone and empty. In one evening she'd humiliated and alienated her only living family in exchange for a few more stolen moments with Hans—thinking it was what she wanted and that his presence would fill the gaping hole in her heart—but discovering instead she'd been used for cheap entertainment. That was a bitter pill to swallow.

Putting her head in her hands, Anna scrubbed at her face without realizing that Kai had reappeared from the room behind the bar. Had she looked up, she would have seen the dangerous look he glared over her shoulder at a slowly standing Hans whose face was once again three shades of red. One look was all it took for the book keeper's son to register the threat in the big man's eyes and the promise of bodily harm should he so much as take another step towards the bar. Kai might have owed the Boekhandel family quite a tidy sum for the loan he'd taken out in order to build his lodge but that didn't mean he'd allow any harm to come to one of his patrons, even if she rarely visited.

"I could really use another drink," Anna mumbled after looking up and seeing Kai standing before her, his big hands splayed on the dark mahogany bar-top as he rested his weight on them. He was a bear of a man standing nearly half a head taller than most in town with thick arms—much like the rest of him—dusted in fine brown hair that matched his goatee and most of the hair on his balding head. He was definitely not someone you wanted to get on the wrong side of. Anna gave him a weak smile that quickly fell when the barkeep continued to stare down at her, his bushy brown eyebrows drawn together in a frown over equally brown eyes.

"You're done for tonight," the big man rumbled with a voice like a grunting bear, slinging the rag over his shoulder and straightening. Pointing towards the door he added, "Go home, Anna. Go be with your sister."

"She's the last person who wants to see me tonight," the redhead sighed, looking down at the bar and her folded hands resting there.

"Yeah, I'm not surprised with how the two of you had it out a moment ago."

Anna's cheeks and neck flared with a fresh embarrassed flush so intense she wondered if it was possible for someone to combust into flames. "You… heard that?"

"Dear one, half the town heard it, and I for one am disappointed in you. What are you doing here, Anna? Especially tonight."

"I just thought—" and just like that whatever excuse she was about to give slipped away like fog on a lake. At first, when Elsa had shown up, Anna had known exactly why she'd chosen to accompany Hans to the lodge and had no issue enlightening her sister on the matter. His idea of celebrating rather than mourning had been as intriguing as it was refreshing and oddly soothing. The last thing Anna wanted to do today was spend the final hours of her evening grappling with the impossible weight of loss and regret. So she'd instead chosen to loosen that clinging heaviness with alcohol and had wound up causing herself and her only remaining family more pain than it readily needed.

"I just wanted to feel numb today," she finally admitted in a small voice and suddenly couldn't find it in her to stop talking. "Kai, I'm so tired. I'm tired of this town, I'm tired of how the people here treat us, I'm tired of feeling like I'm going nowhere, and I'm tired of my job. I'm tired of looking out my window every morning and seeing those hideous grave markers, and I'm tired of living in my sister's shadow. I want adventure in the great wide," she made a grasping motion with her hands when a specific location didn't come to mind, "somewhere, but I have no way of achieving my dreams. Elsa was the one blessed with all the talent. I'm just the spare child. I don't have a nitch in anything aside from reading and remembering things, and what good will that do me?"

"We all have something we're good at, Anna; it's just a matter of finding out what that thing is," Kai frowned, crossing his arms over his broad chest. "But, I can certainly tell you you're not going to find anything here or at the bottom of a bottle."

"You sound like Elsa," Anna groused unhappily, picking at a knot in the bar with her fingernail.

"Go home. This isn't the place for you, and those people over there aren't the sort of people you should keep company with. You're a good girl, Anna, but you have horrible taste in friends."

"Now you sound like my father."

"Good. I think you need a dose of parental reason in your life right about now." Seeing the disheartened and pained look on the redhead's face, Kai sighed and lightened his tone. "Anna, you know I mean well. You're like the daughter I never wanted but didn't realize I needed."

Kai saw a faint smile appear at the corner of Anna's lips and smiled too. It was a running joke between Kai and the Erfinder girls. He and Gerda hadn't been able to conceive children, but it wasn't something they'd ever fretted about. The big man had never been one for starting a family, but then Anna and Elsa had come along and inadvertently stole his heart along with Gerda's. Now they were almost like family…almost.

"Everything you want and dream about is within your grasp. You just have to reach out and take it, but _those_ people over there will never allow you to be truly happy."

Anna's faint smile fell into dust. "And will I find happiness in a home filled with painful ghosts and a sister who seems like a stranger to me?"

"Will you find happiness here with a man who treats you like you're his property and men who openly mock your family?" Kai countered, arching a bushy eyebrow.

Anna's silence was all the affirmation the barkeep needed to know she was reluctantly agreeing with him. Heaving another heavy sigh, Anna slid off the bar stood and made for the door, studiously ignoring Hans as he tracked her across the lodge. Snagging her cloak from the antler wrack by the door, Anna was about to yank the heavy piece of wood open when someone cleared their throat behind her and she turned to find Gerda standing there, planting herself squarely between Anna and the table where Hans still glowered so that the redhead only saw her.

"For the road," the plump woman said with a wan smile. "It's still warm, so eat it quickly."

Not unlike her husband, Gerda was a round woman with dirty-blonde hair and an infectious laugh that could warm even the coldest heart. She was the closest thing to a mother the sisters' had had after their own passed away, but tonight that smile and warmth was gone. Tonight she looked weary and genuinely sad. Out of all the people in Sors, Kai and Gerda had been the only two to honestly grieve with the remaining Erfinder family and had helped the sisters where they could over the years. Kai had even tried to hire Anna as a bar maid but didn't have enough business to afford to pay for her employment year-round, though Anna suspected Gerda had a hand in not hiring her. The woman did, after all, frown upon Hans and his friends who were regular faces at the hunting lodge.

_Yet more people who want to drive us apart,_ Anna thought with a sigh.

"Thank you, Gerda," she said, taking the warm, wrapped bundle. From the smell alone she could tell it was the woman's famous pumpkin bread and felt her famished stomach rumble. Aside from picking at her lunch a little before closing the shop, Anna hadn't eaten anything substantial all day, and with the addition of straight ale in her system it was a wonder she wasn't fall-down-drunk and sick to her stomach.

"And take this, too."

For a moment Anna stared at the vial in her hands, sure the plump woman had made a mistake. "Gerda, you made too much," she said, glancing up in open confusion but felt her body grow cold when Gerda shook her head slightly, mouth pressed in a thin line. The dark blue vial was bigger than it should have been. Elsa never needed that much medicine at one time…did she?

"It's the size it needs to be," Gerda replied quietly, folding Anna's fingers over the smooth sides of the vial. "Make sure she takes it with her tea. All of it, dear. I would have given it to her tonight, but she…well...left in a hurry."

_"I don't know how much longer I have!"_

Suddenly, Anna remembered what Elsa had shouted at her, what she'd thought was just her sister being overdramatic, and wanted to scream—not at Gerda, but at herself—around the same moment her knees almost gave out from under her.

_How could I be so stupid?! _she raged. _How could I have not known?!_

Spinning on her heels, Anna yanked open the door and raced out into the cold night, a part of her hopeful that Elsa would be waiting for her beyond the pool of golden light cast by the lodge's windows. She was, however, dismayed to find that her sister and Gray Dawn were gone, leaving the snow-dusted square as empty and cold as the redhead suddenly felt inside. Jogging to the frozen-over fountain, she looked down the side roads but saw nothing but deep shadow and gray snow in every direction. All she could think about as she took off at a dead run towards the direction of her home—heedless of the cold and dark—was what the vial clutched to her chest meant and what Elsa had been trying to tell her but she'd blatantly ignored. The frigid air burned her lungs as she ran, darkness swallowing her save for the burn of the bright stars hanging above in the blue-black heavens. A slender crescent moon had risen and roosted with the stars, bathing the countryside in sheets of glittering sliver for as far as the eye could see.

Anna stuck to the road, sprinting down the long, winding trail as her cloak billowed and flapped behind her like a flag. She was wheezing by the time she eventually reached her home, phlegm gurgling in the back of her throat and forcing her to spit several times in order to clear her airway enough to breathe. Doubled over with hands on her knees, she dragged in breath after ragged breath, the stitch in her side flaring each time her ribcage expanded. At any moment she anticipated her stomach to revolt with how much it rolled and bucked inside her like a raging sea. From the road her house looked dark save for a dim glow of light on the first story. Anna couldn't tell if there was any smoke rising from the chimney and wouldn't have been able to smell anything since the wind was gusting at her back, pulling her double braids over her shoulders as it whistled loudly in her ears. Straightening from her needed pause, Anna was suddenly unsure she wanted to enter her home for fear of what she might find. Was Elsa that sick? If so, how had she hid it from her for so long? The redhead wouldn't openly admit it, not now and not aloud anyway, but she'd dreaded every step on the way home because she feared she'd round a bend and find her sister lying in the snow, dead or close to it.

_All this time she's been getting worse and I've not notice. What kind of sister am I? _

Fighting down a wave of nausea—some of which she could honestly attribute to guilt—Anna crept onto the porch, feeling for all-the-world as if she were a burglar rather than a tenant who lived there. She didn't know where this trepidation was coming from and hated herself for feeling it as she reached for the door handle and pushed, half expecting the door to be locked. It was, however, unlocked and a seed of hope took root.

_She wasn't mad enough at me to lock me out. Maybe that's a good sign?_

Dim light greeted her as she shouldered open the door, the hinges creaking a little from the cold. Shutting it quietly behind her and throwing the latch, the redhead turned to shake off her snow-dusted cloak and pulled up short, her mouth falling open at the same moment her stomach dropped through the floor. Before her on the kitchen table was perhaps the most scrumptious spread of food she'd seen in months. It looked as if her sister had gone all out for this year's anniversary, cooking some of Anna's favorite dishes along with her own. There was roasted chicken with lemon and basil, sweet potato casserole, fresh baked yeast rolls, a thin stew that looked like it had bits of carrots, potatoes, and some type of meat in it, and a deliciously deep chocolate pie that had undoubtedly come from Gerda. Anna surveyed it all as she walked further in and also noticed something else. The whole house, from top to bottom, had been scrubbed clean. No matter where she looked, she couldn't see even the slightest hint of dirt or soot anywhere, and this realization was like a kick to the kidneys.

_Elsa's been cleaning all day,_ she thought with a devastated drop of her shoulders. _And I was so mean and said so many hurtful things to her. Oh god, I'm not a sister; I'm a monster._

Unable to take looking at the feast her sister had slaved over, Anna set Gerda's pumpkin bread on the edge of the table and moved towards the stairs but stopped dead when she heard a rattling cough come from the large wing-backed chair set facing away from her by the fire. It was the cough that made everything that had happened that day all the more worse and brought another heaping load of tediously balanced guilt crashing down onto her shoulders. Anna knew what the cough meant and would have sunk through the floor had she not kept moving towards the chair.

Stepping into the small puddle of firelight, she squatted down quietly next to her sister. Elsa had changed out of her mother's dress and donned her usual fair of a loose, long-sleeved shirt tucked into black trousers. Her long hair was down and seemed to be damp, the thick locks pushed over her right shoulder in order to dry faster. The blonde appeared to be sleeping but her breathing was labored, and her sister could see the telltale flush in her cheeks that indicated the sickness was back along with a worrying tinge of blue to her slightly parted lips. Elsa coughed again, her whole body twitching as she convulsed, bandaged left hand clutching her…

_Bandages_?

Anna stared at the bright white strip of cloth spotted here and there with speckles and stripes of blood and understood with a thrill of such seizing shame that what she'd brushed off as hearing a chunk of roof ice splashing into the trough outside the lodge had actually been her sister. The redhead had been so angry when she'd shoved the blonde it had never occurred to her to look back and check, unaware of how much force she'd put into her shove.

"Oh Elsa, I'm so sorry," she whispered, resting her head on her sister's knee.

"You're back early," a raspy voice said, cutting through the crackle of the hungry flames. "Did you have a good time?"

Anna snapped her head up with a start and saw her sister's blue eyes crack open. Elsa swallowed hard, fighting back the irritating tickle in the back of her throat that always preluded a bought of heavy coughing, shifting so she was sitting up more in her chair.

"I…no, not really," Anna admitted quietly. "It wasn't what I expected it to be."

"I'm sorry to hear that," Elsa replied dryly, her voice barely above a whisper. She didn't say anything more, preferring to stare down at her father's pocket watch she'd fallen asleep with in her undamaged hand. Every so often she'd turn it in the firelight, watching the reflection of the flames dance across the gleaming surface. Suddenly the trill whistle of a kettle broke the fragile silence. Elsa reached over the armrest of the chair, swinging the fat black kettle away from the fire as a fair amount of steam rose from the curved spout.

"Let me help," Anna offered but a sharp look from her sister froze her in place.

One-handed, the blonde managed to wrestle the kettle free from its hook and poured the steaming contents of the pot into a tall mug on a squat side table beside her, the smell of steeped herbs filling the space between the sisters.

"Gerda said to give this to you," Anna said remembering the vial and mechanically handed it to her sister. "She said to—"

"Double the dose and take it all, I know," Elsa finished, unstoppering the vial and pouring it into her mug.

"When were you going to tell me?" Anna asked, watching the dark liquid in her sister's glass.

"When I thought you could handle it."

After making sure the medicine had completely mixed with her tea, Elsa pushed herself onto unsteady legs. It took her a moment to gather her strength, but eventually she started towards the stairs, mug in hand.

Chewing on her lip, Anna turned and watched her go all the while wanting to… "Elsa wait."

The older girl paused at the base of the stairs but didn't turn, bandaged hand clutching the railing for both balance and support.

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry for everything. For what I said back there and how I acted. I should have never gone with Hans. It was wrong of me, and you were right."

"Is that what you think I want to hear?" Elsa asked, turning to look at her sister over her shoulder, the blue of her eyes particularly bright this evening. "That I was right about him?"

"What do you want me to say?" Anna deflated, at a loss as to how to mend this quickly widening chasm growing between them.

"Tell me you're never going to see him again. Tell me he's been removed from your life for good."

"I can't do that," the redhead whispered, feeling tears sting her eyes.

"Can't or won't?" Apparently, Anna's silence was again enough of an answer, and Elsa turned back around, mounting the first stare with a defeated sigh. "I'm going to bed. Eat what you want and throw the rest away. God knows there was no point cooking any of it tonight and most of it won't keep."

Anna listened to her go and didn't stir from her place in front of her sister's chair until she heard Elsa's door click shut. A cold nose suddenly pressed against her shoulder startled her, and she looked down to find Olaf sitting next to her, head canted to one side with almost sympathetic curiosity. He whined once, ducking his head as if to offer his own form of apology.

"Oh Olaf, where did I go so wrong?" Anna asked, gently scratching the shaggy dog's head. His response was to lick her hand which brought a sad smile to her lips. Pulling herself up off the floor, the redhead went back to the table and looked down at the food she could have partaken in this evening. Slowly, she began gathering dishes and separating the immediately perishable from the few items that would actually keep. Anna knew from experience—and from reading a fair share of books on food preparation and preservation—that the stew and chicken could be preserved for a little bit if buried in snow. The bread would keep for a little while longer but everything else had to be scraped into the slop-bin that was retrieved every week by Darius, the town butcher, for his pigs.

Taking a few folded cloths from the pile on a nearby shelf, she wrapped both dishes and placed them by the door, offering Olaf a few choice pieces of meat when he whined loudly at the threshold, unwilling to step out and enter the snowy yard with his mistress.

"Find, you big baby. Make me do all the work."

She chose a spot near the porch that had a particularly deep snow bank pushed up against it and buried her bundles there, packing the snow as best she could to make sure it got cold and stayed that way throughout the night and into tomorrow. Ducking back inside as quickly as she could, Anna bolted the door and finished cleaning the kitchen before kicking off her damp boots in front of the dying fire and starting up the stairs, pausing at the final landing when she reached the top. For a handful of minutes she stood in silence staring at her sister's door. Lost in thought, Anna didn't realize her feet had moved without conscious prompting until she was standing in front of the door, hands clutched to her chest. Part of her wanted to knock—to push aside the barricade that felt more like a mountain sprung up between them rather than a thin sheet of wood—and enter her sister's room, but she knew it would be a futile effort. Elsa didn't want to see her right now, and she had every reason to feel that way.

_But I have to try. I owe her that much._

"Elsa?" Anna called, knocking softly. Met with silence, the redhead sighed and rested her forehead against the smooth, cool wood. "Please, I know you're in there, and that you can hear me. Even if you don't open the door, at least listen. I'm sorry. I can't say it enough. I'm sorry for how I treated you this evening, and I'm sorry for how this day turned out. I know I can make excuses as to why I went with Hans, but the truth of the matter is I can't fill this hole inside my heart. Nothing helps. I thought that if I went with him tonight and had a few drinks instead of coming home it would somehow make this pain a little easier to swallow. But nothing turned out like I wanted it to, and I hurt you in the process. All those things I said to you…Elsa, I didn't mean them. We say a lot of things we don't mean when we're hurting, Mama taught us that, but I know I can't convince you otherwise, and I'm sorry.

"I…I miss Mama and Papa so much," Anna choked out, feeling her throat constrict and fighting through it. She knew she was rambling, but it felt remarkably good to bleed herself of all the emotion she'd pent up throughout the day. "I want things to go back to how they were. I want to wake up from this nightmare we've been living for four years, but I know we never will. Nothing will ever be the same, and I hate it. I hate this town and how they've treated you and me. I hate how they brushed off our parents' death as just a tragic accident. Sometimes…I dream about finding their killers and doing to them what they did to our family, but we'll never know, and I hate that the most. Not knowing. I think that's the core of the issue right now. Neither of us knows much of anything, and it's just salt in the wound."

Feeling suddenly very heavy, Anna turned and slid down the door, pulling her knees to her chest as fresh tears trailed down her face. "Elsa, I'm so confused. Nothing makes sense to me right now, and I feel like I'm walking around in a constant fog. I don't know what I want out of life. Sometimes I feel like I'm on the right path, but then something comes along and shoves me in a different direction, and I'm back to square one again. I'm not certain about anything anymore: my life, my relationship with Hans…you. I feel like I'm more of a burden to you than a sister. You're always having to look after me and keep me in line, but what have I done to help you? A whole lot of nothing, I can tell you that. I'm sorry I can't be better. I'm sorry I can't be the sister you need or deserve right now. I'll try harder, I promise; just know that I'm sorry for how I acted tonight."

Greeted with yet more silence, Anna leaned back and closed her eyes, wishing she had the power to rewrite time. Then everything would be perfect and she wouldn't be sitting against her sister's door feeling as if the weight of the world was going to crush her into dust at a moment's notice. All she wanted was to be near her sister but the door remaining bolted shut against her back. Suddenly, the redhead felt the true distance of the chasm between them and couldn't hold back her sadness any longer.

_I don't want to be alone tonight, _Anna cried inwardly, fighting back quiet sobs.

And little did she know that Elsa felt the same way but couldn't bring herself to rise from her spot opposite her sister on the other side of the door. Instead, she laid her forehead against her knees, muffling her cries as best she could while wishing the same thing as Anna. If she could rewrite time maybe things would have turned out differently.

* * *

><p>The sister's remained distant and mute for the rest of the week, hardly a dozen words passing between them as they went about their daily lives with half their normal enthusiasm. It was as if all the joy and happiness had been stripped from them, leaving behind hollow husks that could, at any moment, blow away in a strong wind. Neither girl could bring themselves to look at the other, studiously staring at their hands or something interesting on the floor or wall when the other was around.<p>

Because of her injured hand, and the sudden resurgence of her illness, Elsa was forced to forgo any major changes that needed to be made to her father's invention for a couple of days, instead tinkering with clocks in the small living room off the kitchen and filling a few last-minute holiday purchases. Sitting hunched in a heavy blanket with her tea mug never far from her elbow, she shivered and shook in the wake of reoccurring fevers, eyes bright in the firelight and cheeks flushed. But regardless of her condition, the blonde refused to remain in bed, working through the ebb and flow of her illness while a disheartened and still guilt ridden Anna watched from a painful distance.

The redhead hated seeing her sibling in this state, but knew that nothing she said would dissuade Elsa from stopping her work. So Anna left her sister alone, rising early each morning with the gentle chime of her clock and walking into town, barely feeling the cold or hearing Madam Boekhandel's instructions for what needed to be done that day. Hans appeared every now and then, but he was just a silent—if not a great deal colder—as Elsa, ignoring the redhead outright and only staying in the shop for as long as it took him to grab his deliveries and leave. Anna, however, took it as a blessing in disguise. The last thing she wanted to do was deal with an irate suitor and his bruised ego. No doubt he was still fuming over what had happened in the lodge Tuesday evening.

_He can bloody well get over himself._

Sunday eventually came and with it the only day off Anna received from her employer. The redhead had planned on sleeping for most of the morning and early afternoon, but the smell of cooking food dragged her out of the sweet embrace of sleep. Sitting up with a groan, she looked over at her clock and sighed.

"Nine in the morning…might as well get up and do something productive today."

Swinging her feet over the side of the bed, Anna grabbed her robe from where she'd slung it over the back of the chair in front of a small writing desk and padded over to her door, wincing at her reflection in the mirror beside her closet. Her bedhead was oftentimes the stuff of legend, and today it was particularly fierce and wild. Combing her fingers through the tangled rat's nest, she carefully descended the stairs, following her nose as the distinct smell of sizzling bacon and baking yeast rolls grew into an enveloping cloud as she walked into the kitchen.

"Good morning."

The greeting was so sudden and out of the blue that Anna forgot to move from her place at the threshold, frowning in confusion. Had her sister just spoken to her? Elsa had barely said anything in three days, so the sound of her voice was both jarring and—Anna realized with a thrill—shockingly needed. The blonde glanced over her shoulder when her greeting wasn't reciprocated and smiled—_smiled!—_at her. Granted it wasn't one of Elsa's toothy smiles that crinkled the edges of her eyes and made the cerulean colors of her irises glow, but it was something.

"Good…morning," Anna mumbled after finding her tongue and discovering it still had the ability to form syllables. Slowly she walked to the table and took her normal place, a steaming mug of tea already waiting for her, as her sister finished what she was doing at the stove and joined her. Elsa set down a plate of bacon and over-easy eggs along with a few warmed yeast rolls and the pumpkin bread Gerda had given Anna earlier in the week. She also added a steaming bowl of the stew she'd prepared for the anniversary dinner that had never been.

"What's the occasion?" Anna asked, staring down at the food with sudden wariness.

"Do I need one to cook a good breakfast?" Elsa inquired, a little wounded by her sister's skepticism.

"I didn't mean it like that," Anna hurriedly explained, shoveling food on her plate in order to give her hands something to do. "You just…never really cook like this unless there's something special going on."

"I guess you can think of it as an apology," the blonde said quietly, helping herself to whatever was left after her sister was done. She saw Anna slouch as she shoulders dropped and set her fork down.

"You don't need to apologize. It was me. I was in the—"

"You were right, Anna," Elsa interrupted, resting her chin on her folded hands. "I didn't have any right dragging you out of the lodge that night. You are a grown woman who can make her own decisions, and I sometimes forget that. So I feel the need to apologize."

"We were both in the wrong," Anna argued, determined to not let her sister take all the blame.

"Be that as it may, I need to start treating you more like an adult and less like a child, which is why I've been saving this talk until today."

Her wariness returned tinged with fear, and Anna shifted uncomfortably, suddenly afraid of what was coming. "What are you talking about?"

From her pants pocket, Elsa withdrew a letter and carefully laid it on the table between them. "A few weeks ago I sent a letter to our benefactor in the city explaining to him that Papa's invention was nearing completion, and this was his response letter. He is eager to see the prototype and wants it to be brought to him in Breakwater City."

"That's wonderful news!" Anna bounced excitedly, fingers over her mouth.

"It is. If our benefactor likes the changes I've made and wants to go ahead with a patent that means you and I are well and truly on our way up in the world, but there's a problem. He wants to see the invention now. Which is where you come in."

"Oh this is—wait, what?" the redhead leaned back in her chair, eyebrows shooting into her hairline at the same moment her heart leapt into her throat as if yanked by a string. "Me? What do I have to do with it? This is yours and Papa's invention."

"You're right, it is, but let's be honest here, Anna. I'm in no shape to travel. I can barely make it out to my workshop, let alone the journey to our benefactor's home. No, I can't make it, but you can."

"No no no no, I can't do that!" Anna sputtered, planting her hands on the table, food forgotten. "I can't just leave you here alone and go off on some—"

"Adventure?" Elsa finished with a crooked smile. It was then that Anna realized there was a sparkle in her sister's cerulean blue eyes that she'd not seen in weeks. Leaning over the table, the blonde took her sister's surprisingly cold hands in hers and squeezed them tightly. "That's exactly what I want you to do, but listen to me before you outwardly object to my idea. First off, you know I'm right about not being able to travel. At least one of us needs to stay here and watch the house and Olaf, and that person is going to be me. Anna, I know you've been having a hard time lately with everything, and I know you've been wanting something more for a while, so this is my Yule gift to you.

"Everything is already in order and paid for. Because of the length of the journey, our benefactor has sent the necessary coin ahead for one of us to use as payment for lodging at the local inns along the way. The trip to Breakwater City is roughly six weeks round trip: three getting there and three coming back. Father made it a number of times and mapped out the entire trip for me for when I got older. I've still got that map tucked away, so this is what I want you to do. Take Papa's invention to the benefactor for me. Get out of Sors for a bit and go on an adventure. Papa usually stayed an extra week or two in Breakwater so he could answer any questions the benefactor might have, but since you are going in my stead take those extra two weeks and explore the city."

Elsa reached back into her pocket and pulled out a small coin purse that clunked loudly as she set it on the table. Anna's eyes went wide. "I've been saving this for you for a while, and I think it's time I gave it to you. Mama and Papa didn't set aside a lot of money for us, but what little they did I've been adding to from my sales. This is your share. I want you to take it with you and spend it in the city."

"Elsa…" Anna stared at the coin purse in dumb disbelief, her mind struggling to catch up. "I can't possibly take this. We need this money."

"No, we don't. I've got everything already paid in advance for a while. Plus, I'm more than positive the benefactor will be pleased with the prototype. So yes, you can take this money and spend it as you see fit."

"But what about my job? Madam Boekhandel won't just let me up and leave," Anna said gesturing at the door as if the horrible woman was standing there, which she thanked her lucky stars wasn't the case.

At this Elsa's smile turned just a shade mischievous. "I already spoke to Madam Boekhandel and explained our situation. She agreed to let you go for the allotted time. Hans will be taking your place in the shop."

Anna drew back, surprised. "When did you talk to her?"

"Friday."

"_That's_ why she was in such a sour mood. I can't imagine she agreed to this without putting up some type of fight."

"She was…reluctant at first until I reminded her that she had a son who was more than capable of watching the shop while you were gone."

The redhead saw the playful glint in her sister's eyes and had a feeling Elsa had this whole thing planned in advance as a crafty way to get back at Hans for his behavior Tuesday afternoon.

_Leave it to my sister to be sly when she needs to be,_ Anna thought with a smile that only seemed to grow wider the more it dawned on her that this was the exact opportunity she'd been waiting to have all her life. All of a sudden the heavy weight of gloom and dread fell away leaving her so unimaginably light she could have flown had she flapped her arms hard enough. Endless possibilities rushed at her like a swelling tide, swamping her with countless ideas and giddy thoughts. She'd get to travel, get to see the world—well, as much of the world as was between Sors and Breakwater—but still! Just the chance to be rid of this poor provincial town was perhaps the greatest gift her sister could have given her. Yes, it was temporary, but sometimes all it took was a step in a new direction for things to fall into place. Anna wasn't under the disillusion that her life would somehow make perfect sense during her journey, but there was a distinct possibility she'd find the answers she'd been searching for since her parent's death.

_I'm leaving...I'm actually leaving! _

But just as her happiness hit a high point, reality swooped in like a hawk hunting a mouse and snatched it away from her.

_I'm leave Elsa alone while she's sick, and I'm going to be traveling alone…during Yule…just like Mama and Papa…_

The blonde saw the light suddenly leave her sister's face and frowned. "What's wrong?"

"Elsa, I can't just leave you here while you're sick."

"Kai and Gerda are going to keep an eye on me. I've already got another dose of medicine on hand, and Gerda will make daily trips up here to make sure I'm okay. It's alright, Anna. I've got this all planned out."

Regardless of her sister's reassurance, Anna couldn't dislodge the sliver of fear slowly sliding into her heart. "But what about traveling during Yule. What happens if there are highwaymen lurking along the road?"

"I thought about that too," Elsa admitted, her own cheer faltering a bit. "When I got our benefactor's letter that was the first thing that crossed my mind. I'll be honest, don't want either of us out on the roads this time of year, but we don't have a choice. He wants to see the invention now, and we need the money from the patent. Which is why I spoke to Brenden when I saw him Friday."

At the mention of the woodsman, Anna felt a strange flutter in her chest that she couldn't quite place. Granted Brenden wasn't the most fetching man in Sors—he had a face that had seen its fair share of hard weather and even harder seasons for someone the same age as Anna—but he'd always been kind to the sisters in a rough sort of way. Even as kids he could usually be found nearby; his eyes always tracking the redhead no matter where she went. It wouldn't have been a complete shock to learn that he fancied her—in fact Anna suspected just that—but she was with Hans and that's where everything seemed to come to a standstill. Regardless, the thought of the woodsman made her smile despite herself and forget for a moment her anxiousness.

"What did he say," she inquired, feeling a flush rise into her cheeks as she picked at the table absentmindedly.

"He agreed to accompany you as an escort."

"Hans isn't going to like me alone with another man for almost eight weeks," Anna said puffing out her cheeks as she breathed a deep sigh. She could already imagine quite vividly what Hans would do and say once she returned.

"Hans doesn't have a choice in the matter," Elsa bit out. "Brenden is a goods woodsman and knows the forest better than most. He also has family near Breakwater who he'd like to visit while you're in the city, so it's a win-win for the both of us."

"So…" Anna said, stretching out the word, "when do I leave?"

"That is an excellent question," Elsa said finally taking a bite of her slightly cold eggs and chewing thoughtfully. "I thought that this afternoon would be best. The nearest town is about six hours away by horse."

"How am I going to have time to pack!?" Anna gaped, gripping the edge of the table.

"I'd suggest you finish your food first then hop to it," Elsa grinned, and this time it was her toothy smile that momentarily cast aside the sickly pallor of her face and made her eyes dance.

Tucking into her plate with very unladylike gusto, Anna polished off her portion of food with all the fines of a starved animal before bolting excitedly to her feet. She didn't get more than two steps away when she stopped and turned back to her sister who arched an eyebrow at her.

"This is for real, right? I'm actually getting to do this?"

"Yes, it's actually real. Though if you don't get packing you'll have to spend three weeks wearing the same clothes until you can either buy more or—"

Elsa was suddenly cut off when her sister practically dove at her, wrapping her slender arms around her neck and squeezing tight. After a shocked half-second, the older girl returned the redhead's embrace with a powerful one of her own, the ice that had encased her heart ever since their fight earlier in the week finally melting.

"I love you," Anna whispered into the crook of Elsa's neck.

"I love you too," she replied just as quietly. "Now go and pack. Brenden will be here in a little while to help us hitch the cart to Gray Dawn."

Just before noon the woodsman arrived at the Erfinder sisters' door, smiling broadly as he set his pack down on the porch and stepped inside.

"Afternoon, Miss Elsa," he said with a nod, taking off his wool cap and holding it in his big hands, "is your sister ready?"

"She's just getting the last of her things pulled around to the stable," Elsa said, waving towards the kitchen window where she could see the redhead struggling to drag her trunk across the snowy yard. Elsa had told her to wait for Brenden so he could help her, but Anna had been adamant about doing it herself, lugging the cumbersome thing loudly down the stairs and out into the yard. "I trust everything is squared away on your end?" the blonde inquired, glancing at the woodsman.

"My Pap won't miss me, if that's what you're talking about, and neither will Darius. The butcher has his own trappers he can call on for meat, and Pap has my older brother who'll look after him." Brenden went quiet for a few moments as he watched Anna through the window with an unreadable expression on his face. He nervously twisted the hat in his hands, his boyish awkwardness breaking through his very convincing façade of a grown man. "Miss Elsa, I don't mean any disrespect by asking this, but do you think this venture is a wise one to be partaking in this deep in winter? Can't your employer wait until spring?"

"Unfortunately, no," Elsa sighed, crossing her arms over her chest. "He's a man who wants what he wants and doesn't take no for an answer."

"Even if it's a risk for you? Travel around this time of year can be dangerous—" Brenden seemed to realize what he'd just said and flushed scarlet, staring down at his scuffed leather boots. "I'm sorry. That came out wrong. You of all people know the risks."

"My sister and I know it from first-hand experience," the blonde agreed in a small voice, swallowing around the lump of fear slowly creeping into her already chaffed throat. "But even if it's a risk, its one we have to take. I also trust that you will keep Anna safe for me." Her tone alone harbored enough of a warning, but the sharp look she gave the woodsman made him blanch even if Elsa was half his size and a quarter of his weight. He knew better than to cross her. The crescent shaped scar just above his wrist—the one that oddly looked like teeth marks— was memory enough of how vicious the blonde could be when either she or her family were threatened.

"I'll keep her safe. Don't you worry. It's you I'm more worried about. Pardon my bluntness, but you look awful. You sure you don't want to stay with Kai for a while? It's not good for a gir—" he stopped when the blonde cocked a dark eyebrow at him and rethought his words, "for someone in your condition to be alone. Especially with how irate Hans is going to be once he finds out your sister is leaving a day earlier than he thinks."

At this Elsa had to smile, inwardly pleased with how she'd played the game. Oh yes, Hans would be quite angry when he discovered Anna had departed a day earlier than she'd told him on Friday, losing him the opportunity to possibly talk her out of going. Elsa wasn't about to let the bastard get one up on her again, nor was she going to allow him to pull a slimy stunt like proposing to her sister in order to make Anna stay.

_You are a fox, dear Hans, but I am a wolf, and I protect what's mine. It would be best not to play games with me._

"I admit that I've felt better," Elsa admitted with a slight wave of the hand, "but this isn't something I've not dealt with before. Plus, Gerda will be keeping watch. And as for Hans, you just leave him to me. The last thing he wants to do is confront a blacksmith in her own home."

It looked as if Brenden wasn't done with pushing the issue, but just then Anna came bounding through the front door, cheeks and nose rosy from the cold and snow clinging to her skirt from her knees down. "Hello Brenden! Are you ready to get Grey Dawn hitched?"

"Following you, Miss Anna," the woodsman said with a broad smile, following her out towards the stables, Elsa in tow.

"Anna…just Anna," the redhead corrected, rolling her eyes.

"Yes, Miss," Brenden teased, chuckling.

"Is that all you're bringing?" she inquired as they pulled open the stable door and stepped inside, the heady scent of hay and animal musk hitting them all like a barnyard breeze full in the face.

"Unlike most, I prefer to keep the great indoors and the great outdoors separate," he laughed and patted his patchwork pack with a fond smile.

"Creature comforts are a must while traveling," Anna shot back, playfully sticking her tongue out at him.

"Careful, Miss. With the weather as unpredictable as it's been you might just freeze your tongue off before we get out of Sors."

"Anna? Mute? Wouldn't that be a happy day," Elsa laughed as she retrieved a few coils of rope.

"Papa said I talk with my hands, so I'd only be partially mute," the redhead huffed, making a face at her sister.

With a strange kind of playfulness the three set about securing Elsa's invention in the back of the cart. It was much heavier than expected, requiring their combined efforts and strength to wrestle it into place. Elsa threw a heavy canvas blanket over it and helped Brenden secure the numerous tie-downs while Anna secured the cart's harness on Gray Dawn. After about an hour's worth of struggling with knots and heaving Anna's trunk into the remaining space in the back of the cart, Brenden led the large gray Clydesdale out of the stable in order to check the horse's shoes and hooves for any foreign matter that might cause a problem later on in the journey.

"Well, here you are," Elsa said, stepping up next to her sister. "Are you ready?"

"I'm…Elsa are you sure this is the right decision?" Anna worried, absentmindedly playing with the hem of her bodice. Suddenly all her confidence seemed to dry up like a desert lakebed.

"I do," the blonde said, taking her sister's hands and placing in them a leather tube which held her rolled map inside. "It's only eight weeks, which isn't all that long at all. I'll be here when you get back. Listen to Brenden, and for the love of God don't go running off into the woods without him. I've marked all the inns along the way. Just stick to the well-traveled roads and you'll be fine. I promise."

Suddenly needing to feel her sister one last time, Anna threw her arms around Elsa and held her tightly, unable to fight back her trembles. "I love you. Please stay safe. Don't push yourself."

"You do the same," Elsa replied, returning Anna's hug and struggling to keep a tight grip on her building trepidation. It had been a hard decision to let Anna go, and a part of her feared she'd never see her sister again. Partially because of the thugs and thieves that littered the road this time of year, but also because the one thing Anna wanted most was to be rid of Sors for good. If she found someone in the city that could shake this hold Hans on her there was a good chance Anna would stay. But would she leave her sister behind in the process?

_I just have to trust her, _Elsa thought as they pulled away and she helped Anna into the cart.

"You be safe now, Miss Elsa," Brenden said from the bench seat, reins in hand.

"You keep my sister safe, do you understand?" she said sternly, hands gripping the lip of the cart a little too tightly.

"I swear it on my Pap's namesake. I'll get her back to you whole and healthy, don't you worry."

"I'll hold you to that," Elsa replied. Turning to Anna she said, "When you get to Breakwater send a hawk. There's a rookery near the benefactor's home that you can use. I think its two coppers for a hawk. Please don't forget."

"I won't; I promise," Anna swore, giving her sister a wide smile.

There were a few more good-byes before Brenden snapped the reins and Gray Dawn trotted forward, the cart clattering behind them as it bumped along the uneven terrain until it aligned with the ruts in the road. Elsa watched her sister go until she couldn't see the cart anymore, heedless of the outward cold but unable to shake the inward blizzard starting to brew in her chest. She was alone, for the first time in her life, and couldn't fight off the fear.

_She'll be back. I know she will. Brenden is with her. He's not going to let anything happen. She'll be back…_

Elsa finally went inside when a few stray flakes of snow drifted down from the gray sky above. More snow was undoubtedly on the way, but she prayed it would hold off until Anna got to her first inn stop. Bolting the door behind her, the blonde leaned against the wood and stared around her empty house, unsure where she should go or what she should do. Seeking instant comfort, Elsa slid into her favorite chair next to the fire and picked up her mother's fairytale book on the table next to her, skimming the pages as the snow began to fall a little heavier outside, the world turning to shifting white without her immediate notice.

* * *

><p>Anna and Brenden chatted cheerfully as the cart bounced along the road, their conversation wandering through different channels without pause now that there wasn't the threat of Hans interrupting and making things awkward. The redhead had always been a little fond of the woodsman, his rugged life oftentimes romanticized in her mind. What she wouldn't give to live in the forest and survive by her hands and ingenuity alone, braving the battle against mother nature and staking her claim someplace remote and beautiful. She could just imagine what it would be like to live in a cabin overlooking a pristine lake with the mountains before her rising to touch the sky or perhaps a quaint shack near the sea, salt water spray misting the air while sea birds cried from above.<p>

_So long as I'm out of Sors I'll be happy anywhere. Remote or not, I can survive in the woods, no problem._

Brenden passed the time by telling her stories about his life as a woodsman, regaling her with tales of hunting expeditions and the different techniques he'd used to fell his prey or survive when Mother Nature decided to reveal how cruel a mistress she could become. His favorite story, and the one he told with vibrating eagerness, was about the time he'd trekked into the mountains a few days from Sors and found himself stranded in the craggy cliffs by a freak blizzard that had lasted almost a week without reprieve.

"There's little to no wood in those mountains, so building a fire meant cannibalizing a lot of my hunting equipment and pack."

"How did you start a fire?" Anna asked, enrapt by his tale but also eager to learn something new.

"I had one of these," he explained, pulling out a slender piece of dark flint about the size of his thumb. He handed it to his curious traveling companion. "It's flint. When struck with a knife or something metal it sparks and those sparks can be used to light dry tinder."

"I've read about these things. Could you show me how it works when we stop for the night?"

"Of course," Brenden smiled. "You go ahead and hold onto it. I always keep a few on me at all times just in case."

They talked for much of the afternoon until the sky began to darken prematurely, casting long shadows and creating pockets of deep darkness in the forest surrounding them. Frowning, Brenden pulled Gray Dawn to a stop and scanned the slate gray sky through the fingers of leafless branches above. "I didn't expect us to run into poor weather."

"Maybe it's just a fast moving storm that'll dissipate once it hits the mountains?" Anna offered as she too stared up at the clouds. Storms in December were common, but most of them were small and usually passed by the valley without dumping heaps of snow. It was during the January and February months that Sors and the surrounding countryside got most of its heavy snowfall.

"How long ago did we pass that last trail marker?" Brenden asked, snapping the reins to get Gray Dawn moving again.

"About an hour ago," Anna said, pulling the map out and studying it. It was a fine map, heavily detailed with an uncanny kind of precision that bespoke of how many times her father had made this trip. Each checkpoint was a different color with trail markers marked in blue and green ink and the towns names scrawled in a beautiful cursive hand. Elsa had said that if they kept on at a good clip after leaving Sors she and Brenden would make it to the inn by sundown, but it was difficult to judge how long they'd been on the road with the sun hidden behind an endless blanket of thick clouds.

"So we should be coming up to that left hook in the road soon," Brenden indicated, pointing to a sharp left curve along the road that would take them to their first inn.

"If we keep to the left everything will be fine. That's what Elsa has marked on here. Left at the hook. If we keep going straight we'll end up heading too far north and we'll have to backtrack. The nearest town, if we take the wrong route, is another half-day's journey through the foothills of the mountains."

"Left at the hook it is," Brenden agreed, pushing the Clydesdale into a jaunty trot, the rings and belt strapping the cart to the big creature jingling almost merrily. "With a fair bit of luck we'll be there soon, and before the weather breaks, I hope."

"Agreed," Anna smiled, fighting off an involuntary shiver. Was it just her imagination or was it getting colder?

But that hopeful wish was just that…a hopeful wish. It was amazing how fickle the weather could be, and how easily it could turn from a mild annoyance into a building threat. A half hour later the first few fat flakes of snow began to descend through the trees, a precursor to what was coming their way. The wind picked up, bringing with it the cold, clean scent of ice and snow and a sprinkling of sleet mixed in for good measure. For a brief moment the travelers surmised that what they were experiencing was the worst of it, but within a matter of minutes the first furious wave of the oncoming storm blindsided them like a hammer blow, driving them into the ground with brutal force. The wind howled, whipping the trees back and forth in its fury. Snow rode the back of the bestial wind, blowing in at an almost horizontal angle, blinding the travelers while it stung their face like thousands of tiny needles. Sleet crackled against every hard surface, mixing with the blowing snow so that the road was all but impossible to see, while the temperature continued to plummet with each hissing breath the travelers took. Brenden helped Anna fish out her heavy black cloak while he did the same, the two sitting hunched against the relentless force of the stinging wind that seemed determined to constantly blow into their faces.

"Are you sure we shouldn't stop!?" Anna shouted over the roar of winter's fury, freezing hands clutching her cloak clasp in order to keep it closed.

"There's no point in stopping! The inn can't be more than a few miles away!"

"How are we going to see the marker?!"

"Just keep your eyes peeled. It's got to be here somewhere!"

Onward they trekked, Gray Dawn hanging his heavy head as the sleet clung to his mane and began to turn the strands into ice cycles. But the farther they went the stronger the storm became until it was impossible to see anything beyond the Clydesdale, the forest disappearing into a shifting, blowing, churning sheet of white nothingness. For the first time in her life, Anna suddenly felt small against the force of nature bearing down upon her. Sure she'd seen her fair share of storms before, but she'd never been stranded in one. Home was always a quick walk away, or she'd just stay in the bookshop until the worst was over, watching the flurries drive past the large window while she remained safe and dry inside. Now, however, she began to understand just how dangerous something like this could be as she shivered and shook inside her cloak, body freezing, and was immensely grateful Brenden was here to be her guide. Had Anna been alone in this she'd have likely gotten lost or worse.

Another hour past without any sign of the marker and it was becoming irritatingly clear that either they had missed the turn-off or were farther behind in their journey than either of them previously expected. Anna made the decision to continue onward, hopeful that she'd see the tall blue and green pole appear out of the snow and it would be just another few minutes before they came to the inn and could escape the storm. As Gray Dawn trudged along, the redhead began to notice that the forest was changing around them, the trees becoming more wild looking—if that was even possible—and edging closer to the road, while the wheel ruts they'd been following since Sors seemed to have disappearing entirely. The countryside began to slope upward, squat crags of weather-beaten stone replacing most of the trees like ancient monoliths. At some point in the early evening, the cart hit something in the rough road and pitched dangerously to one side, something cracking under them as the front wheel lifted off the ground. Had Brenden not shoved a startled Anna in the opposite direction they would have both tumbled over the side, effectively flipping the cart.

"You okay?" Brenden asked, frozen in place with his arm braced against Anna so that she wouldn't slide towards him.

"I…I think so," she squeaked, gripping her side of the cart. "We…we need to counterbalance the cart before we tip over."

"Good plan. Let me slide towards you. Here, hold the reins."

Brenden slowly edged towards her, careful not the jostle the precariously tilted cart lest it tip the other direction and tumbled down the shallow embankment. The wheels and axles groaned loudly as they slowly straightened out, Brenden's weight pushing the raised corner down enough to get all four wheels back on the ground. With a firm command from Anna, Gray Dawn pulled hard against the tipping cart, heaving it farther up the road, snorted breath fogging around the big horses head. There was one more jarring snap from under the cart just before it settled back on solid ground, and that sounds alone spoke volumes to how deep their trouble had just become.

"What…was that?" Anna asked with a wince.

"Nothing good, I'm pretty sure," Brenden groused as he jumped down from the cart bench and went around to see what the problem was. Anna joined him, bent nearly in half as the wind continued to rage and rip at the corners of her cloak.

"What's the problem?" she asked, hunkering down next to him beside the back right wheel and squinting up at the underbelly of the cart. Gray Dawn nickered uneasily, causing the cart to sway as he pawed nervously at the ground. "Stop moving, you great beast!"

"I think we might have split the axel," Brenden said with a gusty sigh, feeling along the length of the shaft just to be sure. And just as he suspected there was a sizable crack half way between the right wheel and the iron brace that bolted it to the cart's underbelly.

"Oh, that's wonderful news," Anna grumbled, resting her head against the icy wood.

"It's mendable, but we'll have to make it to the inn first. Do you still think we're on the right path?"

"I don't really know, but I have a sinking feeling we might have overshot our turn," Anna admitted with an irritated sigh. If she could have strangled Mother Nature she would have done so with her bare hands. Gray Dawn snorted again, neighing loudly as he tossed his head, and the redhead glowered at him as if this was his doing. She was barely a few hours into her journey and already she was running into trouble. What could possibly make things—

They heard the growl and froze, both travelers staring at one another with wide, fearful eyes. Slowly, oh so slowly, the two rose from their crouch and looked around at the white forest, the shadows suddenly a little too dark and too ominous. A flash of movement from the top of a snowy jut of stone beside their cart and another in the underbrush just a few feet away alerted them to the creatures in their midst. Through the shifting, blowing snow Anna and Brenden watched a gray and white wolf appear from out of the storm as if it were a phantom, its proud head held high as it regarded them from where it stood less than ten yards away on the road behind them.

"Brenden…" Anna whispered, feeling her hands begin to shake as she instinctively began backing away.

"Anna, I want you to slowly climb into the back of the cart," the woodsman instructed, his voice tight with fear. Another wolf appeared, this one emerging from the forest to join the first.

"I thought you said there were no wolves in this area," Anna hissed, trying her best to walk backwards so that she wouldn't have to tear her eyes away from the predators on the road.

"That's what's scaring me….there's not supposed to be."

Carefully the redhead did as she was instructed and climbed into the cart, aware that the wolves were watching her every movement with eerily intelligent gold eyes. Brenden had just begun to climb onto the front bench when a throaty growl pulled his eyes up to a midnight black wolf standing on a jut of high stone beside the cart. The beast lowered its shaggy head and bared its teeth in warning, hackles raised. Licking his suddenly dry lips, the woodsman made a split second decision and swung onto Gray Dawn's back instead of the cart, digging his heels into the horse's flanks with a loud shout for him to run.

The nervous Clydesdale took off like a shot, the cart jerking into motion just as the black wolf lunged. His trajectory was a little off and he overshot the cart, tumbling into the snowy underbrush as Gray Dawn raced on, eyes wild with fear.

"We have to get out of the forest!" Brenden shouted back at Anna as the horse and cart careened down the uneven trail at a reckless speed, throwing the redhead every which way as she struggled to hold on and stand at the same time.

"We need to turn around!" Anna shouted back at him, clambering over the tied-down invention so that she was seated on the bench, white-knuckle hands gripping the railing in front of her.

"Hold on!"

Brenden jerked the reins hard to the right, driving Gray Dawn into the trees as the wolves took chase, six more beasts sliding out of hiding as the black-pelted alpha took the lead. Their speed was remarkable, and within moments they'd almost overtaken the cart. A few tried to lunge at Gray Dawn and catch the horse in his flanks but Brenden saw them and jerked him away, driving a few wolves into trees with startled and wounded yelps. Still more came and on they raced, dodging trees—both standing and fallen—and careening through the forest.

At least one wolf was able to climb into the back of the cart, claws scraping long gouges in the wood, and scrambled towards Anna, but the redhead was ready for it and spun around on the bench just in time to kick the creature full in the face and shove it over the side. It would have been a minor victory she could have celebrated—not many people could boast about kicking a wolf in the face—had the beast not fallen under the right wheel of the wagon, causing the axel to splinter further as the cart bounced wildly. Brenden tried to correct the sudden, unexpected lurch by steering Gray Dawn in a straight line, but he was half blinded by the driving snow and panicking, so when the long fallen tree came into view, the one Gray Dawn was preparing to jump even before the woodsman knew what was about to happen, he and Anna both knew their fate were sealed. He had just enough time to look back at her before the world around them shrank down into the singularity of exploding splinters and blinding pain.

The cart slammed into the tree with a tremendous crash, wood splinters and supplies erupting out from the wreckage like a powder keg explosion. The front wheels were driven into the ground and smashed to pieces, the axle sheering completely off the bottom of the cart. Anna was pitched up and over the railing as the forward momentum flung her into the air like a ragdoll. For a terrifying moment earth and sky traded places, spinning like a top around her until she reconnected with the ground with a bone jarring crunch, her ribs and right shoulder flaring with intense agony as she rolled helplessly across the snowy ground. Everything went suddenly static white as her hearing faded at about the same rate her consciousness was leaving her.

Fighting to stay awake, she rolled onto her side, dizzy and unimaginably nauseous, wickedly cold snow warring with the forge-fire heat of hundreds of scraps and cuts. She tasted blood in her mouth, felt it dribble past her lips as she groggily forced open her eyes and raised her head. Gritting bloody teeth, Anna struggled to her feet, arm around her waist in a vain attempt at holding her screaming ribs. She had just enough time to survey the wreckage and to realize what had happened when the first of the wolves jumped atop the destroyed cart, fangs bared.

_Run! _her instinct screamed at her, but her feet couldn't comprehend the command. With grim vagueness she wondered what it would feel like to be mauled to death by a pack of starved wolves.

"Anna!"

The redhead sluggishly turned towards a charging Brenden riding a wild-eyed Gray Dawn bareback, hands tangled in the horse's frozen mane. Leaning over, the woodsman scooped her up like some fairytale prince in the stories her mother use to read to her, spurring the Clydesdale into a frantic dash through the trees.

"The cart," Anna mumbled as she pressed herself against his back, her mind finally catching up with what had happened.

"We'll go back and get it later!" he shouted over his shoulder. "Right now we need to—"

There was no telling how the wolf had lunged so high, but suddenly the black-pelted alpha was atop Brenden, jaws closing around his throat. The sudden impact of the beast threw both travelers off their mount and drove Gray Dawn screaming to the ground in a tangle of thrashing limbs and fur. Somehow Anna rolled free and watched in mute horror as the alpha tore bloody gouges into the woodsman, the snow turning red under him. Baring bloody teeth as he struggled to push the beast off his chest, Brenden ripped out his boot knife and began stabbing the shaggy alpha, but it seemed as if his blade did little to deter the wolf from savaging him.

"A-Anna—r-run!" he managed to choke out before the rest of the pack swept in, the smell of blood driving them into a frenzy.

Terror seizing her spine and refusing to let go, the redhead staggered to her feet and ran as fast her legs could carry her in the opposite direction. She darted past trees and through underbrush in a blind attempt at leaving the savage carnage behind, unaware that a few of the wolves had taken notice of her departure. The wind continued to drive the snow hard enough it was like wading through a thick fog, dark shapes looming around her as the forest swung into focus before fading to shifting blurriness just as quickly. Tears streaming down her face, Anna chose paths at random and ran, voice freezing in her throat even as she contemplated screaming for help. It wouldn't have mattered anyway. She was miles from the nearest town, and even if there just happened to be a wayward hunter in the area the storm would rip her cries away from her and devour them in its own roaring maelstrom.

Suddenly the trees abruptly fell away as Anna scrambled into what she thought was a clearing only to find herself staring up at the monstrous expanse of a dilapidated castle nearly overtaken by vegetation, huddled under the shadow of an impossibly massive tree that remarkably still sported green leaves in the dead of winter. Her shock and sudden prickle of deja vu was quickly torn asunder when she heard the snarls from behind her and took off in a panic, desperate to find some place to hide or higher ground. Arms pumping and head down, the redhead charged towards the ruin, running the expanse of open land that encircled it like a moat as fast as her legs and the nearly shin-deep snow would allow. She could hear the grunts and snarls of the beasts close behind, their ragged breath sending chills down her spine as the very real possibility of an excruciating death loomed ever closer. As the crumbling structure rose up in front of her, Anna squinted through the haze of blowing snow and thought she caught sight of a slender woman standing amongst the rubble with a lantern in hand and doubled her effort, fervent hope flaring in her chest.

"_Please_!" she shouted breathlessly, waving her arms to get the woman's attentions. "Please, help m—"

Her cry for help became an agonized scream as the first wolf overtook her, sharp fangs sinking into the meat of her calf and pulling her to the ground. The other two descended mercilessly, ripping and tearing wherever their fangs would find purchase. The wolf with its jaws around her leg attempted to drag Anna away from the castle and back towards the forest, while another sank its teeth into her shoulder, helping the first along. A wild kick with her only other usable leg managed to dislodge the creature from her leg while a sound punch to the snout of the second startled the beast long enough for Anna to scrambled onto her hands and knees, sheer terror temporarily replacing her pain with adrenaline. But no sooner had she taken a few steps the wolves attacked again, this time jumping atop her back—a hundred pounds or more driving her into the snow—in an attempt to secure their prey by the neck; and had Anna not been wearing her cloak they would have succeeded. As it was, she managed to unclasp it with bloody fingers and continue her scramble towards the castle, but it was a losing battle.

Lame on one leg, bleeding from numerous deep scratches and a bite to the shoulder, Anna was beginning to weaken and slow which was exactly what the wolves were waiting for. When she fell again with a frustrated cry they were there, razor sharp claws biting into her bodice as they rolled her onto her back and went for the kill. Unwilling to stare death in the face, Anna closed her eyes, anticipating the searing pain of fangs sinking into her flesh, but instead felt something rush past followed by a pained yelp from one of the wolves. Breath heaving in her chest and bloody fingers curled in the snow, Anna cracked open a hesitant eye but couldn't see anything—no wolves and no explanation for their sudden, hasty departure—aside from blowing snow and churning gray clouds. Then a rattling hiss, like a cat spitting in anger only much larger and more guttural, made her aware that there was something else with her in the snow, something unnatural, and her panic returned ten-fold.

Rolling onto to her stomach, Anna managed to push herself up enough that she could frantically hobble the last few feet yards to the castle, teeth gritted against the volcanic fire starting to creep up her leg and over the rest of her body. She didn't dare look back, forcing her eyes to remain fixated on a tall turret where she'd seen the woman standing seconds ago. The exhausted and shivering redhead got within twenty feet of the first large piles of rubble and felt an odd tingling sensation wash over her, but couldn't bring herself to care: pain, panic, despair, and terror driving her like a maddened horse under a relentless whip. She needed help, she needed to get to Brenden, she needed to get to her cart, she needed to—

It was unclear whether or not she'd misjudged her footing or just didn't see the drop-off, but suddenly Anna was falling, her scream just barely making it past her lips before she hit the water's surface with a stinging slap that left her senseless. For a moment the redhead couldn't comprehend what was happening or where she was. Darkness swirled around her and when she went to take a breath all she got was a lung-full of water and choked. Instinct told her to follow the bubbles and to put her feet down: the latter of the two revealing that the pond she'd fallen into—pond was putting it loosely, it was more of a spring—wasn't all that deep. Coughing and gasping, Anna wiped water from her face and struggled towards the shore where she collapsed half out of the water, her consciousness fading as she lay gasping against the carpet of grass, unaware of the marvel she'd just stepped into.

How long she lay panting and close to hysterical sobs on the bank—her cloths soaking and probably starting to freeze— was unclear, but eventually Anna became aware of many strange things seemingly all at once, the most shocking being that the pain she should be feeling, the cold fire that should be enveloping every bite mark and laceration, wasn't there. Lifting her arms into the fading light, Anna stared at herself in mute disbelief. Almost positive she was just imagining this, the redhead heaved herself out of the water and pulled down the thin stocking of her bitten leg, eyes growing as wide as dinner plates. The wounds weren't there. None of them were. Touching her shoulder, her fingers came away free of blood, the skin under the ripped fabric whole and healthy.

_How in the hell…?_ she wondered, planting her hands on the ground and feeling the grass—

_Grass? There's grass under me?_ Anna looked down, utterly dumbfounded._ But…but where's the snow?_

The third thing she realized came along right after her discovery of the grass. Though her clothes were drenched and she was soaked to the bone, the fabric wasn't in the least bit cold. In fact, despite the rivulets rolling down her spine, Anna wasn't cold either, and the ground under her was oddly warm as if it were sun baked. And there was grass under her fingers and leaves on the creeping vines and tree above and flowers blooming in the half-light of dusk and—

"Human?"

The voice was that of a child's only sticky sweet, the word drawn and over enunciated in a way that made the hair on the back of Anna's neck prickle. Suddenly all she could feel was a guy-wrenching, cold dread sweep over her, stealing her previously attained warmth like a thief in the night. Some deep seeded fear chose that moment to buoy back to the surface of her consciousness, her childhood nightmares suddenly come to life in stop-motion flashes: a flower, a grinning, malicious face, pain and that one whispered words repeating over and over like and incantation.

_It's not real,_ she told herself, the fingers of her left hand unconsciously rubbing the cluster of circular scars on her right wrist. _You're hearing things. In fact, you're seeing things, too. This isn't real. That voice isn't real. Those wolves weren't real. Wake up, Anna. Come on, wake up. Wake up, wake up wake up—_

"_Human,_" the sticky-sweet, childlike voice said again, the smile evident in the tone.

Anna twisted around when something snapped behind her and felt her breath rush out of her lungs. The grinning little vine creature sat crouched atop a broken piece of wall, weird lupine face bright with a savage kind of joy as it bared its teeth in what could have been described as a mockery of a human smile. The redhead kicked away as quickly as she could, hand clutching her aching chest, faded memories of a similar sinister creature pushing more fear into her veins.

"You wake," the creature said, using its hooked claws to quickly climb down the wall like a squirrel and land with a thump near the pool, gleaming blue eyes—so much like a child's—pinning her in place.

Enveloped in the frantic urge to flee, Anna turned back towards the pond and froze, her world grind to an abrupt and ugly halt. She saw the reflection before she saw the creature—saw those horrible wide antlers atop the head of a mountain of a man—and her blood turned to ice in her veins. Shaking so violently her teeth began to chatter while her heart threatened to break through her ribcage, Anna struggled not to look but felt her gaze being drawn towards the beast as if by magic. He stood in a dilapidated archway, so still he could have been a statue, staring at her with such burning intensity Anna could physically feel the weight of his black eyes. It wasn't until he slightly canted his antlered head in an echo of human curiosity that reality swung back and slapped Anna across the face.

She didn't realize she'd been shrieking until her throat burned, didn't realize she was up and running back towards the forest until she was almost free of the castle. Every fiber of her being told Anna to run, to put this castle as far behind her as possible, to take her chances with the wolves rather than trust the hell-spawn who inhabited a ruin never meant for man to step foot upon. This was a cursed place, an evil place, a place that oftentimes haunted her dreams and her hazy memories of childhood. Anna might not have understood why she felt like this place was familiar and rightly didn't care. All that mattered was leaving and never returning. But it seemed fate, or some form of alien magic, had different plans. Stumbling down a crumbling pile of old mortar, Anna ran full tilt for the open expanse of snowy ground just past the boarder of green grass when she collided with some unseen barrier with such force there was an audible crack along with an explosion of luminescent blue ripples in the air at head level a half-second before the redhead crumpled and didn't rise again.

For a moment all was quiet within the ruin, the howling winter winds unable to break past the barrier that sat like a cap over the castle and the world of eternal spring that grew under it like a greenhouse. Finally from the crumbling walls of dark stone and decaying mortar two figures emerged: one tall and thick like a mountain, the other hunched and willowy like a wind-blown tree.

_How the hell did that happen?_ the willowy figure wondered—his lips never moving—as she spoke through the mental connection he and the stag-man shared, looking down at the woman with open disgust. _Her heart suddenly stop?_

_It was the barrier, Bracken,_ the stag-man grunted in response, looking up at the shimmering dome and the blue ripples that had just reached the top and disappeared behind the canopy of emerald green leaves. The stag-man's black eyes eventually returned to the bleeding, unconscious woman and roamed over her body with cold uninterest. Blood was steadily trickling between her slender eyebrows and down the bridge of her nose from the gash on her forehead where she'd struck the barrier.

_Can I eat her? She looks dead to me,_ Bracken sniffed slinking closer, the intricate weave of vines that made up his weirdly lupine body snapping and crackling as he shifted closer.

_She is an interloper— _

_ Interlopers are not welcome,_ Bracken cut in with an unkind smile, his sharp fangs glinting in the half light.

_Who has partaken from the spring, _the stag-man continued as if not interrupted, regarding the vine creature with a hard stare. Bracken visibly blanched, screwing up his face is disgust.

_We can break the rules this one time, _he groused, nudging the human with his foot to see if she would wake, which she didn't.

_No, she's mine! You can't eat her!_ the little vine creature who had greeted Anna by the pool shouted as it scrambled down one of the walls and attempting to tackle Bracken but earning a sharp smack instead. Undeterred, it crouched defiantly in front of Anna, spines raised. _I want to keep her; plus the Horned One said you can't eat humans anyway!_

_ The Horned One slumbers, little pest, _Bracken snarled.

_Forest law is a binding law! You can't touch her!_

_ She has a point, _the stag-man conceded with a slight shrug. The law was the law, and he of all the servants of the Horned One should know that best.

_ So what does that mean, Kristoff? We keep her until…what? The barrier comes down or she screams herself to death once she wakes? _Bracken growled, the spines on his back rising in the wake of his anger.

_That's not my call,_ Kristoff shrugged again as he reached down grabbed the redhead's limp arm with about as much gentleness as if he were gathering timber, dragging her unconscious body back towards the castle. _I'll consult the tree,_ he said waving at the monstrous plant towering above them,_ when next I feed her. Until then, leave the human alone. If she beats herself to death trying to find a way out that's her problem; and then you can eat her._


	6. Chapter 5

**A/N: ** Hello gang! So we're definitely moving along with this story, and I hope you're liking the read thus far. I just wanted to let everyone know that I'll only be updating one chapter in December rather than my normal two. With the holidays fast approaching things are going to get crazy fairly quickly for me, so rather than struggle to give you all an update and risk it being crap I'm only going to focus on one chapter this time. Don't worry, after the first of the new year things will get back to normal. For those following me on tumblr, keep an eye out for my next FTFTIN holiday short. I'll be posting that too in December closer to Christmas. Until then, happy reading and please review! Love to hear that you all think!

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><p>He towered over her with frightening size, blocking out the fever-bright starlight shinning above that seemed to want to mirror the glow of hungry flames below. From every direction the fire came, leaping and dancing upon the back of the wind, devouring earth and stone and flesh alike as the world descended into an incarnation of living hell. Yet though the firestorm raged with the intensity of a thousand forges it shed no more light than the sun did in its last throes of daily light, and within that dim haze ruled the stag-man, standing like a sinister statue amongst the ruin, body silhouetted against the inferno's glow. Swallowed by inky blackness, the only specks of color on him were his antlers, gleaming bright in the orange light as if they too were made of fire.<p>

Anna tried to shrink away from him but found herself held tight, lashed with ropes to an unyielding surface that felt like a tree trunk only smaller. Her bound wrists scraped together as she struggled to twist them free, a cry to some nameless soul slipping past her lips that was prematurely silenced when the three foot piece of steel was pushed through her chest and out her back, imbedding into the wood behind her with a dull thud.

"See if he can save you now," the stag-man hissed as he leaned in close, sour breath washing across her face even as she struggled to draw breath but got a lung full of choking blood instead. His nearness set her skin aflame, sizzling agony racing across her body. She would have screamed had she had the breath.

"Death comes for us all," he growled in a voice like distant thunder, grabbing her face with a hand that almost instantly heated and charred her skin further. A raven chose this moment to swoop down from the shifting, glowing smoke and alighted on the stag-man's broad shoulder. It took one look at Anna and broke into a series of rattling caws that could have very well been laughter. Suddenly the large black bird leapt from its perch and became a woman in mid-air: tall and lean with an air of malicious danger about her as she settled gently back onto the ground. She stared down at Anna with glee in her glowing red eyes and yet more fire winking in her toothy grin.

"For you," the raven woman purred, reaching out to remove something from around Anna's neck, "it came centuries ago; you were just too much of a fool to realize it."

And then they were laughing and the blackness of death was pulling Anna forever downward. She tried to scream but couldn't manage it around the coiling tightness snaking around her ankles as she fell, squeezing her with merciless pressure until she was sure she'd—

Anna sat up with a strangled scream and instantly regretted it. Pain and heat flared just above her left eyebrow, making her wince and screw her eyes shut again in an effort to combat the discomfort. She lay with the heels of her palm dug into her eyes, fingers tangling in her red hair as she fought to breathe the pain away, struggling to remember what she'd hit and why she was laying outside and not in her bed. Four deep breaths and the redhead began to notice a myriad of strange, earthy smells circling her. Not the charred stench of burning flesh, hair, and wood, that had just been the dream—though Anna couldn't remember ever having one so disturbingly vivid and…_new_—but rather the scent of wet stone, moss, dew, and a pungent, musky scent she just couldn't place.

Daring to open her eyes again she found herself staring hazily up into a canopy of shifting emerald leaves, light just barely beginning to warm them as the sun rose, and shot bold upright with a choking gasp, the last of her consciousness returning to her body with a reeling snap.

_Oh no. No no no it was just a dream! _her mind shrieked at the same moment her throat snapped closed. _It can't be real! It couldn't have all been…_

And she remembered with a nauseous rush the storm and the biting cold, the wolves and the chase, the pain of their teeth sinking into her flesh, and the gripping certainty of death as they tore at her. She remembered the castle and the pool and the strange vine creature and the stag—

The memory of pain, torture, heat, and that looming silhouette suddenly filled her mind's eye. For nearly thirteen years that nightmare and nightmarish creature had dogged her dreams almost weekly, each time refilling the cup of terror that had been sipping from as a child for reasons she couldn't quite remember. But she could never forget him in all his gruesome glory, could never forget his whispered breath on her face, and the words "tiocfaidh ár lá," whispered at the close of the dream like a fervent prayer.

_Mama always said dreams had a way of telling us things if we looked hard enough. But nightmares can't be the same…could they?_

Movement out of the corner of her eye froze Anna in place and made the world grow suddenly bright in the wake of a powerful wave of fear. She tasted bile in the back of her throat and forced it down. Using only her peripheral vision, the redhead looked across the weirdly round room she currently resided in—thick with shadows and rubble—and felt her carefully built world of sanity crumble into dust and blow away.

The stag-man was seated at the only foreseeable entrance into the round chamber, blocking Anna's way as if he were standing guard…or sitting in this case. Even seated though, his silhouette plucked every cord of terror in Anna as if she were a well-tuned violin, her screams acting as the cords and notes that didn't sound the least bit human as she back peddled and pressed herself against the wall as onyx black eyes bored into her bright blue ones. Tears rolled down her face, an endless babble of pleas rolling so quickly from her lips it was a wonder she could enunciate at all. Suddenly the stag-man leaned forward and screamed as well, his voice swallowing Anna's and booming like a canon blast in the small enclosure, stunning and effectively silencing the redhead as efficiently as if he'd physically struck her.

"S-st-stop," he grunted after the echo of his bellow had evaporated, struggling to enunciate, "scr-screaming!"

Mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water, Anna held herself perfectly still as she fought to fully understand this new type of hell she'd be thrown into: the where, what, how, and why needing to be answered. But at the moment she was too terrified and unbalanced to even begin to knit those questions together, her mind functioning on only the simplest of commands.

"Don't yell at her either!"

Anna's head whipped around so fast her neck cracked, and she again back peddled away from yet another creature as it entered the round chamber, climbing down the wall like a squirrel and landing next to Anna on wobbly legs. It was the same small, wolf-like vine creature she'd seen on the bank of the pool, the one who had called her a human and smiled at her. Pulse like a battery-ram pounding away in her temples, the redhead stared in wide-eyed shock at the little creature, her terror and confusion almost common placed now.

"She can't help it humans are screamy around new things," the creature scolded in a slightly high-pitched voice, scowling at the stag-man who stared back with stone-like impassiveness.

"No more…scr-screaming," the stag-man growled in his rich, deep voice, fists planted on his knees.

"For a human that's impossible. She'll scream until she passes out again and then do it some more when she wakes. Especially when looking at your ugly face, stag-boy."

Anna felt the hairs on the back of her neck prickle and slapped her hands over her mouth as another vine creature dropped into the middle of the room from somewhere above and stood to an impressive height with the smooth grace of a natural predator. Though it stood on its hind legs like a man, the creature's overall shape was more wolf than human and made entirely out of tangled vines, grass, and moss: reminding Anna of those stories she'd read were men were cursed to take the form of a wolf during a full moon. Only this thing was a hundred times more terrifying…and also a plant. Across its broad, hunched back and down its spine lay finger-thick spines the color of bleached bone that seemed to shift and twitch as the creature moved. Slowly it turned its large, wolf-ish head towards Anna and smiled, showing off rows of teeth and razor sharp fangs.

"See, she even fights the urge now," the creature scoffed with gleeful mirth in its honey-smooth voice. "Go ahead, human. Scream again. _I dare you_."

"That's because she's new here!" the little vine creature—the one that looked like an exact copy of the larger creature only much smaller and more…childlike—countered with a rattling hiss. "And you can't do anything to her! The tree said so!"

"The tree said I can't kill her. It didn't say anything about eating her once she drops dead from fright," the larger creature growled and dropped down into a crouch that made it look all the more menacing and feral. If Anna could have shrank back and melded into the wall behind her she would have. "And it certainly didn't say anything about ripping out her tongue or snacking on a few fingers."

"You can't eat her! She's mine!"

"We all need to eat," the larger vine creature cooed, drawing closer to the smaller one and subsequently Anna. "Myself included. And it has been so long since I had a human."

_ I'm going to die, _she panicked. _They kept me alive so they could eat me alive! Oh god, and they'll start with my fingers and toes first just like—_

The smaller creature began to hiss like a cornered cat, plucking a note of recognition in the redhead. She's heard the exact same hiss during the wolf attack when something in the snow had driven them off. "Eating them is what got you in trouble in the first place! Nothing's going to happen to her so long as I'm here! She's mine! I claimed her before anyone else got to her, so by forest law she's mine!" the little vine creature snarled and jumped between Anna and the larger creature, the small spines on its back standing on end like a hedgehog.

It was during this bizarre and disturbing exchange that Anna realized these two creatures seemed to fall within the same strange family. That didn't make things any better—in fact it further perpetuated the problem because it meant that if these two creatures existed there must be more of them—but it was still a curious discovery Anna was sure she'd mull over once she was leagues away from this place.

"Oh really?" the larger creature sneered, going nose to nose with the upstart. "And if I take her from you? Snatch her away in the middle of the night and eat her before you can stop me?"

The smaller creature bristled further, the spines on its back vibrating. "You just try it! I'll bite you so hard you'll never bud another—"

"I'd keep a better eye on your pet then because it looks like she's about to make a great escape…or at least attempt to," the larger vine creature interrupted with a lopsided grin, glowing eyes flicking up to Anna. "Can I eat her if she falls to her death?"

Unbeknownst to the arguing creatures, the redhead had spotted an opportunity for escape while they bickered. Scrambling as fast as she could, she'd scaled the surprisingly thick creeper behind her with shocking ease, her panic stricken mind driving her to complete seemingly impossible tasks with relative ease. She'd just reached the top of the high, circular wall—roughly fifteen feet off the ground—when the creatures below noticed her absence and froze, teetering precariously on the lip of the wall on her stomach like some awkward exotic animal caught in mid-flee.

"Hey wait!" the little vine creature protested and jumped onto the creeper, sufficiently startling the redhead and causing her to lose her grip on the vines. With a strangled squawk she disappeared over the wall and landed with a muffled thud followed by a string of colorful curses on the other side.

Bruised shins and knees throbbing, Anna took off like rabbit flushed from its hiding place by hunting hounds, searching for a place to hide but realizing with a thrill of dismay that if these creatures lived here they knew every nook and cranny.

_Gotta get out of here. Gotta get home!_

Picking a direction at random, Anna sprinted into the skeletal labyrinth of half walls, crumbling mortar, and dark stone, weaving her way through narrow corridors and yawning archways in a desperate attempt at fleeing but only serving to get herself more and more turned around. She lost count of how many turns she'd made and thought that perhaps she'd be lost in the ruin for eternity when the claustrophobic hallways suddenly fell away and she found herself standing in an open courtyard so familiar she felt her knees grow week.

"No, please no," she whispered in a strangled voice, barely able to breathe.

The towering tree rose out of the stone like some vengeful forest god determined to retake the castle as its own. Roots protruded from the uneven ground, pushing aside and winding through the heavy stone as easily as a snake slithering through fallen leaves. It was the same tree from her dreams, the one Anna had stood in front of countless times before the stag-man appeared and drove a sword through her chest.

_This is impossible, _she thought numbly as she stared up at the towering giant, glittering green leaves swaying playfully in the gentle breeze. _It was always just a dream. _

Dream or not, Anna knew she needed to get back into the forest but didn't have the slightest clue as to where she was. The castle was too vast and choked with ruined stone and creeper it was impossible to navigate, so higher ground was her safest bet at finding a route to lead her home, and the tree was by far the tallest living thing she'd ever seen. So she sprinted towards it, ignoring the trills warning blaring in the back of her head like a hunting horn the closer she got to the giant. Anna was just about to mount a few jagged slabs of fallen wall and jump onto the lowest branch when a shadow dislodged from the right side of the trunk and took on solid form like smoke condensing into water. One minute there was just open space there and the next the stag-man appeared just like he had in her dreams, rushing her like a bull before she could get within ten feet of the tree. He was shockingly fast for someone so large—jumping tall chunks of stone as if he were light as air—lunging and pinning the redhead against a piece of fallen pillar in half the time it took her to blink once. Anna felt her back crack against the unyielding stone, driving the breath from her and making her momentarily dizzy.

"Stop!" the stag-man bellowed in alarm, his powerful fingers capped with rock-hard black nails digging into her shoulders and making her cry out. He was unimaginably strong; far stronger than any human Anna had ever dealt with, and that was terrifying.

"No, please!" she shrieked and coiled into herself, tears streaking down her cheeks. Any second now she knew she'd feel the searing pain of the sword slide into her ribs and snuff out her life as easily as the winds snuffs a candle. The dream was a premonition, there was no other explanation for it, but the moment never came. No sword, no blood, no fire melting her skin or crows laughing at her. Just the musky aroma of leaves, pine sap, and wet fur.

Breathing like she'd just run for her life for the second time, Anna dared to open her eyes and found herself instantly captivated. The stag-man was taller than most of the men Anna had ever come in contact with, standing possibly six and a half to seven feet from the bottom of his bare feet to the tops of his impressive, bone-white antlers. Though most of him retained a vaguely human form, his face was another matter entirely. Perhaps in another life he would have been handsome. Anna could see he had a strong, angular jaw and thick, muscular neck, but the rest of his face was a morphed mix between stag and man: nose flattened, bestial, and dusted in fur, brow pronounced and heavy.

But the moment of captivation ended far too quickly. The stag-man leaned in close enough to the redhead she could see her reflection in his onyx black eyes and growled, "Touch you die," in his broken speech, staring hard at the redhead as if willing her to listen and understand.

And just like that the fear returned: cold and choking and all consuming. Pinned, confused, in pain, and most of all scared out of her mind, Anna finally felt something inside her snap, self-preserving fire filling every inch of her. She was a girl, yes, in peril, certainly, but that didn't mean she couldn't take care of herself. Growing up around mostly boys in Sors had taught her how to be scrappy when she needed to be. Grabbing the stag-man's wrists, she jumped and plant her feet against his stomach, pushing out as hard as she could. Caught by surprise, the stag-man staggered backwards, allowing Anna the chance to dart away from him. She would have kept running had the smaller vine creature not skittered into the courtyard.

"_Don't you fucking touch me!_" Anna screamed, circling back round to face the stag-man. If he saw her fear and desperation, he chose not to acknowledge it, instead planting himself between Anna and the tree, face as impassive as always.

"Gods above and below, do you ever stop screeching?" the larger vine creature snarled as he climbed over a sagging archway. "You sure she's not a banshee?" it asked the stag-man who remained silent.

"Who the fuck are you and where the hell am I!?" Anna demanded in the same shrill voice, body starting to shake.

"Stop…screaming," the stag-man menaced, face scrunching into feral growl.

"Just…just stay away from me! All of you stay away," she warned with her hands out, hoping her voice sounded stronger than the quivering wobble it was starting to become. Her attempt at wrangling her frayed nerves was failing miserably, but she tried again anyway. "Where am I? What is this place? Why am I here, and what in the name of god are you people?"

The stag-man frowned as if trying to remember something, chewing on his words. After a moment he tapped his furry chest. "Kri…Kris…Kristoff."

"What?"

"His name, stupid. You asked for his name," the vine creature sighed as if impossibly board.

"Kristoff," the stag-man said again, enunciating the word as carefully as if he were holding shattered glass in his hands.

"Your name is Kristoff?" Anna frowned with incredulous disbelief. Kristoff nodded his shaggy head once in confirmation, face still blank as a slab of granite.

She stared hard at him, brow furrowed with concentration as she tried to sense the possibility of a lie or maybe a trap of some sort. Kristoff returned her stare, the two regarding each other with cautious curiosity like two duelers meeting for the first time. Anna had never seen anything like this stag-man save for the fleeting yet menacing memories of him from her dreams, but now that she actually took a moment to look at him, she realized this creature didn't resemble the sinister giant that roamed her nightmares. Granted he was still plenty intimidating, but he didn't carry that air of impending pain and death like the other creature did.

_Could there be more than one?_ she wondered distantly.

Anna was somewhat surprised to find that he had normal human legs and feet rather than the back haunches of a stag like her imagination had liked her to believe. The only piece of clothing adorning his brown, fur-dusted body—save for the pieces of cloth wrapped half way around his muscular calves and down around his feet—was a pair of tattered and extremely worn pants that looked more loincloth than breeches. The rest of him was bare save for his fur that seemed to grow in heavy around his shoulders and crawled down his broad, muscular chest, thinning slightly around his naval. His hair was a disheveled, tangled mess, hanging limp and matted around his horns and over his powerful shoulders: leaves, twigs, and other natural plant matter tangled in the dirty locks that just barely hid pointed, furry ears.

_Alright, okay, one question answered, and it doesn't look like they're going to eat me. Just breathe, Anna. You'll find a way out of this._

"And you?" she frowned, looking over at the vine creature who snorted with contempt.

"Humans long ago lost the ability to speak my name, but if you have to call me something, call me Bracken."

"Bracken," she deadpanned. "Like the fern."

"No, Bracken, like myself. I'm not a fucking fern, I'm a skrunt. Lord of the skrunts actually."

Kristoff turned his head and looked at him, and the look on his face was like someone saying, "Really? Are you serious?". Bracken shrugged with a grin that faded when he turned back towards Anna.

"I…alright fine," Anna breathed, wrapping her head around everything as best she could.

_Skrunt…what the hell does that mean?_

"Where am I, and why am I here?" she managed after a moment, looking around at the sprawling expanse of the ruin. When it didn't appear Kristoff was going to answer, Anna asked again, stretching out her words like she would if dealing with a simpleton. The stag-man scowled at this, his bestial face scrunching in exasperated annoyance. He turned to Bracken again and it appeared a quick, unspoken conversation passed between them in the space of two heartbeats.

"I just love being the mediator between the two of you. Fucking wonderful," Bracken growled, rubbing his snout with a clawed hand "Don't bother asking him much. Kristoff hasn't spoken in your tongue in at least five decades. I, however, have the unfortunate task of mediating between the two of you. So to make this process as painless as possible, why don't you enlighten us as to why you're here, human," he inquired from his perch on the wall, dangling leg swinging back and forth.

"Anna. My name is Anna."

"How did you get here, _Anna_?"

"The…the wolves chased me here. They attacked me and my traveling companion on the road and chased us into the forest. I got away but Brenden…"

_Died because of me,_ Anna swallowed, feeling tears prick her eyes. Up until this moment she'd forgotten all about her scramble away from the wolves as they tore the woodsman apart but now she couldn't get the image out of her head and hiccupped.

"Tragic, I'm sure," Bracken sniffed, uncaring.

"My friend died!" Anna shouted with indignant anger, tears working free and sliding down her face, and pointed towards the woods and where the remains of Brenden's body probably still lay. "He was mauled to death, and I was almost too had I not found this place and you people and that weird spring with the weird healing water and…and…and…what the hell is this place?!"

"Welcome to Tree Spring," Bracken said, throwing out his long, sinewy arms. "Your new home for the next three months!"

"How is that—wait—_what_?" Anna felt her stomach drop and wondered if it would fall out her ass. "No no no, I can't stay here for three months! I have to get to Breakwater City! Elsa's counting on me to deliver her invention! I have to leave!"

"There is no leaving. If you had just run through the barrier that would be fine, but you drank the spring water. So you're stuck.

"I did no such thing!"

"It healed your wounds," said the other little skrunt behind her. "That's about the same as drinking it."

"I…but that's not fair!" Anna whirled around, eyes wide.

"Fair means nothing when it comes to fae and forest law. You touched the water. Intentional or not, you're stuck here just like the rest of us," Bracken groused.

"You don't understand!" Anna shouted, hands clutching the front of her ripped and torn bodice as if trying to keep her heart from plowing out of her ribs. "I can't stay here for three months! I was only supposed to be gone for two! My sister is going to think the worst has happened and she's…"

Anna couldn't bring herself to speak the rest. She knew exactly what Elsa would think and a part of the redhead died. Suddenly it was hard to keep standing and she sagged to her knees.

_She's going to think I was killed on the road or ran off and left her. Oh god, please, _please _let this just be a bad dream or a joke. Please don't let this be real…please don't take this happiness from my family…_

"You have to let me go!"

"There is…no leaving," Kristoff said slowly, motioning to the expanse of castle all around them. "Stuck here…till spring."

"Exactly," Bracken added with a mocking smile.

"There is always a way! You just haven't looked hard enough!"

The vine creature tilted his head back and barked with such cynical laughter it made Anna's blood boil. "Human, I've lived under this damn barrier for two centuries. Year after year Kristoff and I are kept here during the winter months like animals in a cage. So when I tell you there's no way out, _there's no fucking way out_! The sooner you accept that the better it will be for all of us. I might not be able to kill you thanks to the tree, but I can certainly play with my food for a while."

"Stop it, Bracken!" the little skrunt growled, padding next to a shattered Anna. "You'd feel the same way if you were in her place."

"I _was_ in her place," the larger skrunt growled, sliding off the wall and stalking back into the castle. "Which is why I feel no sympathy. Enjoy your stay, human, and watch your back. I may have to listen to the tree just like Kristoff but know there are beings who roam this ruin who answer to no one. You are food, nothing more. Don't forget it."

Anna barely saw him go, her world crumbling down around her much like the ruin. Arms wrapped around her waist, she doubled over until her forehead was pressed against the floor, tears speckling the cold stone.

_Three months…I can't stay here for three months. Elsa needs me…she was counting on me. Oh god, please, please don't let this happen._

"She's leaking," the small skrunt said to Kristoff who hadn't moved from his spot in front of the tree. "Why are you leaking?"

"Please," Anna whispered, offering Kristoff the last shred of hope she had. "Please, don't keep me here. I have a family, a sister. She needs me. If I'm gone for three months she'll think I abandoned her, and it'll kill her. _Please!_"

But there was no place for hope in the stag-man, hardly any shreds of humanity as he continued to stare down at her with impassive black eyes.

"You can…not leave," he rumbled. "Not m-my choice." As if something had called to him, Kristoff turned and looked back at the tree, his large hands hanging at his side twitching. "Do…not…touch," he warned as he turned away from her and started towards the tree, her final warning on the matter before she was left alone with only the little skrunt for company.

It was impossible to tell how long she lay there on the cold stones, lost in the pain of grief, frustration, anger, and hopelessness. Her tears fell unchecked and she sobbed until her throat was raw. At some point Anna became distantly aware that something was bumping her arm and looked up. The little skrunt was still there, butting her shoulder with its pup-like head. The redhead involuntarily jerked away from the vine creature who didn't seem to mind her startled reaction.

"Stop leaking, human. You'll run out of water and shrivel up!"

"I…I'm sorry. I can't help it," she hiccupped, pushing herself up with her hands and looking around. The sun had risen further into a cold blue sky, chasing away most of the shadows and giving Anna her first real glimpse of the ruin. "I feel like I've lost everything."

"You're still alive aren't you?" the little creature said in its hissing, childlike voice. "And you're mine, which means I'll take care of you! Don't worry, it's not so bad here, even for a human."

Why that made a ghost of a smile pull at Anna's lips she didn't know, but it did and it helped a little. Slowly it began to dawn on her that sitting and crying would get her nowhere. She needed to get up moving, needed to find a way out of her predicament one way or another. Scraping together the shredded remains of her courage and determination, Anna pushed herself up onto wobbly legs and turned towards the open expanse of land she could see beyond the crumbling walls.

_What would Elsa do in a situation like this? _she wondered, closing her eyes against the gentle breeze that swept in and swirled around her. _Not get into a situation like this, I'm certain of that, but what would she do?_

_ Find a way out not matter the cost. Find a way home, _she heard Elsa say in that matter-of-fact tone she used when her sister was acting irrationally.

_And that's exactly what I'm going to do, and that fern Bracken be damned. There's a way out, there always is._

Picking her way towards the small open field, Anna surveyed her strange surroundings with a critical, if not a little puffy, eye. The green grass abruptly ended some fifty yards away, instantly giving way to glittering, snow-packed lands that disappearing into the forest on all sides. It was towards this strange separation she approached, hands out lest she ran into something again. Not surprisingly the tips of her fingers brushed something warm and smooth as glass right before she would have stepped out into the snow, faint blue lines racing away from her fingers like ripples in a pond. Curiously she poked at the invisible wall, watching the ripples until they faded from existence. Mouth pressed in a thin line, Anna raised both hands and pressed, but if she was expecting some type of give she got the exact opposite. The wall was as solid as a mountain.

"It's the barrier," Anna heard the little skrunt explain from beside her. "It rises every year at the beginning of winter and doesn't come down until spring."

"Why?" Anna asked, unsure what was possessing her to talk to the strange creature. She knew she should be terrified, but her determination to return home overrode most normal reactions at the moment.

"The Horned Lord does it," the little creature said, suddenly hissing and arching like a cat when it saw something move in the grass next to Anna, glowing blue eyes burning with focused intensity.

"Horned Lord? You mean Kristopher?"

"Kristoff," the little creature corrected, still stalking something in the grass. "And no, Kristoff isn't the Horned Lord. Just his servant and the master of Tree Spring."

"So then who's this Horned Lord and where do I find him. I'd like to get out of here before spring."

"He doesn't talk to anyone but Kristoff," the skrunt replied, batting a clawed paw against the grass before diving on a beetle and scarfing it down, making soft hissing noises as it chewed.

"Great," Anna mumbled, slowly spreading her fingers against the barrier. It was strange looking out at the world, her world, as if she were in a glass jar. Anna knew it had to be cold in the snow, but under the barrier it felt like early spring, the air crisp and warm and fragrant. Slowly her eyes tracked over the gray tree line, over the place she'd come from and the friend she'd lost to the wolves.

_Brenden, I'm so sorry. I hope you find peace._

Turning away before she began to cry again—tears right now would get her nowhere—she focused her attention on the barrier and the tiny glowing ember of hope burning within her.

_If it's a wall there's a chance it only goes so high, and if it's anything like this ruin there's bound to be holes._

Determination pushing her forward, the redhead made her first slow circuit around the massive expanse of the ruined castle, carefully going over every possible inch of the barrier wall with her hands. Foot by foot and yard by yard she crept—heedless of the daylight slipping away or the cramps in her legs from squatting and crouching for hours at a time—not stopping until she'd made a complete circuit…and a second and a third. All the while the little skrunt stayed by her side, asking questions and offering advice that fell on deaf ears. Before she knew it the sun was setting, long shadows taking over the ruin and making it seem far larger than it had in the daylight.

Exhausted, sore, and shockingly thirsty, Anna threw herself down on a jut of stone and put her face in her hands, wracking her brain for a possible solution. She'd not felt a single change in the barrier as she'd walked along it, patting, tapping, pushing and straining every possible inch.

_Maybe it changes throughout the day. Maybe I need to check it at different times. Maybe I need to stand on something tall to see if there's a lip. Kristoff or Kristopher or whatever his name is has to be seven feet tall. Maybe the barrier is taller than that so he can't climb over._

"You seem tired," the little skrunt said from its place in the grass. It had learned that if it got too close to the redhead she was liable to get screamy or twitchy, so to keep her comfortable it maintained a respectable distance.

"I am tired."

"Oh, well when do humans usually sleep?"

"At night," Anna mumbled into her fingers and felt her stomach cramp. She hadn't noticed it while she'd walked the barrier but she was hungrier than expected. Her last meal had been breakfast yesterday and her stomach was now reminding her of that sad fact quite boisterously.

_I can think about food later, _she told herself, peeking up over her fingers and staring hard at the invisible wall as if it were her mortal enemy, which at the moment it might as well be.

"So you're like me!" the little skrunt smiled. "It's going to be night soon, and it's safer to stay in the castle than in the open grass. I mean, for you, not me. I like the grass."

Suddenly nervous, Anna looked down between her feet at the greenish brown shoots brushing her legs that she'd been crawling in all day. "What's in the grass?"

"Other fae that hunt at night."

And it was then that it fully dawned on Anna that she'd be spending a night in this forgotten ruin of a castle, and her hungry stomach did a nauseous flip. One night with these horrors, one night trapped in a world that wasn't her own, one night too many by her count but unavoidable unless by some miracle a hole in the barrier opened up. But it was more than that, she realized, and suddenly wanted to curl into a ball and sob. Here in this place she had nothing: no clothes, no blankets, no food, no water, and no basic human comforts to speak of. She was proverbially naked in a strange land with no hope of rescue for at least two months. Suddenly her clothes seemed too thin, her torn stockings too tattered, her skin too cold.

_Oh god….oh sweet god, what am I going to do? I can't do this! How the hell am I going to survive for _three months_? _

The slow burn of panic made her chest increasingly tight until it was difficult to breathe, and Anna was sure that at any moment she was going to vomit. "Where…where am I going to sleep?" she asked in a feeble voice, turning to stare into the castle's skeletal expanse over her shoulder.

"Anywhere," the little skrunt said cheerfully. "The castle is your home now, so you can go anywhere you like to sleep."

"This is not my home," Anna hissed vehemently, pounding the top of her legs with her fists.

"Well, it is right now. Don't worry, I'll show—" the little vine creature stopped mid-sentence and raised its head, pointed ears swiveling as if hearing something, before dropping into a whimpering hunch like a scolded child. "I have to go now. Bracken's calling us in for our feeding."

Anna couldn't bring herself to ask what a "feeding" was for a creature like Bracken and the skrunts. But as the creature began to skitter up one wall, the redhead realized she didn't have a clue about anything inside the castle—having spent all day outside of it—and it was getting dark remarkably fast.

"Hey, wait! Where am I supposed to go? Where do I sleep?"

"Anywhere! Just stay where the stone is the smoothest. The rougher the stone the older and more crumbly it is and the more likely it is to fall on you," the little vine creature was saying as it tottered along the lip of a fallen wall like a cat along a fence, the spines on its back swaying. Anna stood and took off after it.

"What does that even mean?" she pressed, following the creature into the skeletal remains of the fortress, swallowing hard as the darkness closed in around her. She hadn't noticed up until this point, but the little skrunt had been the only source of information and companionship Anna had since entering this nightmare and she was suddenly lost without it. "Please don't just leave me here!"

"I have to go, but don't worry. Stay in one of the towers or the chair room. They've got soft moss in there and are good places to sleep," the little skrunt was saying as it jumped from wall to wall with remarkable speed. "Oh and watch out for the floors, sometimes they like to give way. And don't climb into the second story, those stones fall all the time. Oh and stay away from the Underdark. No one is allowed down there. Not even Kristoff. And don't go near the tree..."

"Wait…_wait!_" Anna called after the creature, but it was useless. The skrunt was gone leaving Anna alone in the pressing grip of dark stone and even darker fear.

_Breathe, Anna. Just breathe, _she told herself, clutching the front of her bodice as she turned in a slow circle, wide eyes attempting to take in every detail while her body braced for an unseen attack. The last place she wanted to be right now was wandering the dark corridors after sunset, the primeval instinct to remain hidden and safe at night crawling to the forefront of her mind.

Unwilling to bring herself to venture into the sprawling expanse of stone and shadow, the redhead found a small, half-hidden alcove facing towards the open grassland and barrier and crawling into it. Huddled against the back wall as far as she could wedge herself, Anna—determined to make herself as small as possible—watched the shadows lengthen and eventually overtake the area, darkness fully descending over Tree Spring and waking new and frightening life. Frozen in her hole, Anna listened to the chirp, chatter, wail, screech, and scream of unseen creatures, heart pounding in her chest like a war drum. Things shifted and crawled above her, clawed feet clicking on stone and grass thrashing in the wake of something large yet unseen. A couple of times she was certain she heard voices in the darkness, barely audible whispers fading in and out but always too close for comfort. And if the frightening noises weren't enough to keep sleep from her the chill in the air certainly wasn't helping. Despite it being relatively warm during the day, nights under the barrier were cold. So Anna sat in shivering silence, her damp clothes little protection from the elements and her fear keeping her awake until sunrise.

* * *

><p>The curt knock at the door came as no surprise, but rather than rising and answering it immediately Elsa continued pumping the bellows next to her modified forge until the coals glowed red hot, kicking off a sufficient amount of heat in the small area. She waited until the knocking came again, al little more insistent this time, before walking across the kitchen and peering through the peep-hole in the wood. Just as expected, Hans stood on the other side looking a great deal more dapper than he usually did, a pleasant smile on his irritatingly handsome face.<p>

_This is going to be interesting,_ Elsa thought with a half-smile before arranging her face into a mask of cool neutrality and pulling open the door.

"Hans, what an unexpected surprise," she said evenly, quirking an eyebrow and leaning against the doorframe, sooty hands tucked into her armpits to keep them warm.

"Aren't I just full of surprises?" the book keeper's son said with a confident grin, hands behind his back and shoulders squared. Despite the biting cold he seemed rather comfortable in his gray and white ridding coat, a burgundy scarf wrapped loosely around his neck. "I've come to call on your sister."

Before Elsa could stop him, he pushed the door open and strode into the small kitchen, pulling off his white ridding gloves one finger at a time.

"By all means, come in and stay a while," the blonde muttered, closing the door but not latching it. "Would you care for some tea?"

"How very domestic of you, but no, I just need your sister. Anna!" Hans called, tucking his gloves into his pocket and withdrawing a small box that Elsa's eyes instantly honed in on. "Anna come down!"

_I knew it,_ she smirked in mischievous triumph, recognizing a ring box when she saw one and feeling more validated in her decision at making sure Anna left a day early. _I knew he'd pull something like this._

"She's not here," Elsa indicated lightly, moving back over to her forge and pumping the bellows a few more times, ignoring the tickle in the back of her throat that just wouldn't go away. Despite the tonic from Gerda she'd not been able to shake her persistent cough and mild fever. Regardless, she continued to work and watch her uninvited guest out of the corner of her eye.

"She's in town?" Hans turned, a bit of confusion in his eyes.

Deciding against dragging on this farce for longer than necessary, the blonde looked up from her work, face as stony as a cathedral gargoyle. "No, I mean she's not here as in not in Sors. Anna's left already, Hans."

The shift in his demeanor was instantaneous and just a little frightening. Elsa saw his flash-pan anger creep into his face in the form of a scarlet flush that made his hazel eyes practically glow.

"When?" he inquired rigidly with just the hint of a growl.

"Yesterday," Elsa replied with a shrug as if this were common knowledge.

"You let your sister ride off to another city, in the dead of winter, alone?" he deadpanned, the scarlet flush of his anger intensifying.

"If you think that you really are as stupid as your mother thinks you are," the blonde laughed, burying a spike of iron into the glowing coals and wiggling it back and forth until it was secured. She felt him bristle and smirked. "No, Anna didn't go alone. I sent Brenden along with her. What with him being an excellent woodsman, I figured he'd get her there as safely as if I had gone with her."

Anger gave way to cold rage, and Elsa could see Hans' shoulders physically shaking in his attempts to maintain some semblance of moral decency in the wake of such unexpected and unpleasant news. Across the room Olaf lifted his head from its resting place on his paws as if he too sensed the change in the room's atmosphere.

"Where are they going?" Hans choked between clenched teeth.

"Hopefully as far away from here as possible," Elsa retorted, waving a hand at the window and the world of white outside. She'd purposely neglected to tell Madam Boekhandel which city the Erfinder's benefactor resided in just in case Hans tried to pull something like this and ride after Anna.

_I'll keep him as far from her as possible for as long as possible. Just ride, Anna. Ride and be rid of this town for a while._

"I demand to know where they've gone!" he shouted, pounding the table with his fist and making the baskets of sprockets and bolts jingle.

"You do not get to demand anything from me!" Elsa shouted back, jabbing a finger at the floor to emphasize her point. "This is _my_ home, Hans, and you have no right to be here let alone demanding things from me and my sister! If I choose not to tell you were she is that's my bloody decision to make, not yours!"

"You let my fiancé go off into the woods with another man!" Hans seethed, spitting every word.

At this Elsa barked with cynical laughter that certainly didn't help the situation, but she couldn't hold it back. "Hans, as far as I'm concerned, my sister will never be your fiancé or wife. The fact that she's continued to court you after everything you've done to her is a mystery to me, but I'll be cold and dead before I let you slide that ring you have in your pretty little box over her finger and claim her as your own," Elsa growled, baring her teeth in a vicious snarl.

The severity of Hans' rage was breathtaking to see up close, but unlike Anna Elsa wasn't going to let him gain the upper hand. She'd dealt with enough arrogant, entitled men over the years to know exactly where to push and how hard. This wasn't a game the book keeper's son was going to win on his own, and she secretly relished seeing him break against her will like a wave against a stony shore.

"Don't talk like that couldn't turn into a possibility," Hans scowled, hazel eyes flashing in the glow of the forge fire. "Because accidents can happen in this town, dear Elsa."

"Are you threatening me?" the blonde bit out, staring her sister's suitor down as if they were rival wolves about to battle over a kill; metaphorically circling one another, testing the waters with verbal pokes and jabs in order to judging the others response.

"I'm merely stating a fact," Hans menaced, closing the distance between them like the predator Elsa always knew him to be. From across the room she heard Olaf's low growl of warning and could see his lips peeling back to reveal white fangs glinting against pink gums. Apparently Hans didn't hear because he kept approaching, eyes boring into Elsa's with hateful satisfaction. To him she was a woman alone in her home, and so many things could go wrong.

"You could slip and fall down the stair," he began to explain in a matter-of-fact tone, "or fall off the back of a horse. You could choke on a piece of meat, or more tragically, die in a house fire. All these things are a possibility I would put past—"

He froze in place mere inches from her, the scorching heat blazing just outside the crotch of his pants and the prick of something sharp pressed against his stomach through his thick coat stopping him dead in his tracks. Slowly, very slowly, Hans took a step back, swallowing hard against the sudden lump in his throat and trying not to blanch when the iron poker moved a fraction of an inch closer.

"Something I can't tolerate," Elsa said in a deceptively calm voice, stepping forward and effective driving him back, "is a man thinking he can bully me into obeying him because he's under the illusion he can frighten me with idle threats. Well, Master Hans, do I appear frightened to you?" she asked, quickly tapping his groin with the poker and making him jerk back with a startled yelp.

"I would suggest," Elsa continued, stepping around so that her back was to the forge and Hans' to the door, pushing him back one step at a time, "that you leave my home before I make you with first living eunuch in Sors. I would suggest you never come to my home again under any circumstance, and when my sister returns, you will break off your courting with her. Because if you don't, if you ever get the itch to test your metal against me, I'll cauterize that fleshy little stub of a cock swinging between your legs before I gut you like the pig you are. Understood, Master Boekhandel?"

Before he could so much as form the words in his mouth, Elsa threw the small iron knife she always carried, the one her father had given her years ago, into the floor—point sinking into the wood—and shoved a gaping Hans out the door hard enough that he stumbled and fell on his ass in a snow drift. The door slammed shut a half-second later, double bolts clicking into place. From the peep-hole, the blonde watched him angrily pick himself up and stalk away, shouting curses as he went and useless threats as he mounted his horse and rode away at a reckless speed. Only once Hans was out of sight did Elsa exhale and slide down the door, her legs turned to jelly under her and heart roaring in her ears.

_So close…he came so close…_

She'd seen the darkness and promise of harm in Hans' eyes, and it made her involuntarily shiver. For a while now she'd suspected that a monster lay dormant within him, and now she had a scrap of proof and it made her sick to her stomach. Pulling her knees to her chest, hot poker still held tightly in her right hand, Elsa fought to control her breathing and remind herself she was safe for the time being. But what would the next two months be like? Suddenly she felt more alone than ever and wanted nothing more than to curl into a corner and wait for her sister to come back.

_I just have to make it two months. It won't be hard. Two months and Anna will be home and we can leave this god awful town behind for good._

* * *

><p>Anna's first night under the barrier had been horrible, to say the least. Her second and third were no less unpleasant; though she'd left her cramped alcove in search of the tower the little skrunt had mentioned and found it easy enough on the far side of the castle. Just as it had said there was plenty of plush moss covering the floor and climbing the walls, but that was where the comfort ended. To a creature made of vines and grass it must have been an oasis, but to Anna it was just another cold stone room with a cold stone floor and cold stone walls. With no fire or blankets the redhead continued to sleep huddled in a tight ball on her side, shivering herself to sleep only to jerk awake when an unfamiliar sound or disembodied scream broke through her half-sleep and startled her. It was maddening and unimaginably taxing, and slowly the hours began to bleed together. Of course there were moments that shocked her out of the foggy stupor she'd fallen prey to. Sometimes while Anna walked the barrier—as had become habit every morning and periodically throughout the day—she'd catch sight of strange things peering at her from the creeper vines and bushes, tiny faces made of leaves or spindly bodies perched on branches that would disappear when she stopped and looked back, making her wonder if she'd even seen them at all.<p>

At first Anna had stubbornly refused any form of help, determined to make herself as self-sufficient as possible so she didn't have to interact with the creatures living in Tree Spring. Even the little skrunt who had helped her the first day, the one Anna came to call Hissy because of the way she hissed whenever she talked, was turned away or ignored as the redhead bumbled around the castle like a new born calf just learning to walk. But pride was a dangerous mentality to cling to when in an unfamiliar territory, and Anna quickly discovered that if she was going to survive her three month sentence under the barrier she had to start using her head and not making decision at random because that was when mistakes were made.

_Adapt and survive,_ Brenden had told her when explaining how he'd survived during the blizzard in the mountains, but Anna was having trouble understanding exactly what that meant. Sure she was a scrappy little thing, but during the entirety of her short life she'd never really wanted for anything. When she was hungry she simply went to the kitchen. When she was thirsty she went to the well. When she needed a bath or a change of clothes she went home. Everything she'd ever needed had been within walking distance, and without that safety net Anna suddenly realized how vulnerable and unequipped she actually was. What little she'd read about forest living and what she'd been able to ferret out of Brenden seemed next to useless in a place like this. The redhead knew she needed food and water, but she didn't know where to find any food save for an abundance of grass and some suspicious looking bushes.

By the fourth day she was beyond the point of exhausted and famished, her stomach cramping so badly Anna wondered if it was trying to devour itself. She'd forgone her usual walk around the barrier in search of food, and in the throes of her frantic hunger—she'd never gone so long without eating—Anna had found multiple bushes on the premises thick with juicy berries and had greedily eaten her fill, disregarding Hissy's warning about eating from certain bushes. That had been her first mistake. In the beginning all had seemed well until later that night when she'd woken to discover that the roof of her mouth had gone numb along with her fingertips and tongue. By sunrise on the fifth day Anna woke up disoriented and vomiting; lacking the strength to do more than totter to the spring that Hissy had shown her a few days ago and drink what water she could stomach between crushing cramps and heavy sweats.

"I told you not to eat those berries," Hissy worried out loud as she paced back and forth.

"I was so hungry," Anna whimpered, tucked into as tight a ball as she could manage, not caring in the least if she stayed there through the night.

"But there are rules in here, Anna. You ate fae berries. Humans can't have those. And you took without asking, which angered the berry fae. I had to give them a quill from my back so they wouldn't eat you."

"Why does everything in here want to eat me?"

"Well, humans are meat."

"So are cows."

"True, but you all can talk better than cows and taste different."

"I thought Kristoff was the guardian of this place," Anna groaned and pressed her face into the fragrant earth, weathering her cramps and nausea one wave at a time.

"He is," Hissy said matter-of-factly.

"Then why isn't he helping me? I'm stuck here just like he is, but I don't know what the hell I'm doing!"

"You're human," the little skrunt said quietly, "and he's not…_we're_ not. He watches over us, but you're an interloper."

_I'm just a burden,_ Anna thought hollowly as the fire in her stomach continued to burn and the world continued to spin.

Hissy disappeared a few times throughout the day but always returned to check on her "pet". It was just a matter of pure luck—or perhaps providence, Anna surmised—that she had the little skrunt around to help. She, if it even had a gender, was the only creature that seemed to genuinely care about the human interloper in Tree Spring. Without Hissy the redhead knew she'd have been dead or close to it within her first few days under the barrier, though at the moment she selfishly prayed for death to end her misery. It was Hissy who showed Anna the small stream hidden beside a thick fir tree just outside the south-most castle wall that she laid beside now, sipping handfuls of cold water every few minutes. It was Hissy who apparently smoothed things over with the berry fae—if they even existed.

Eventually Anna found the strength to crawl back to her tower, momentarily thankful for the moss that grew on the stones. Warm they might not be but they were plusher than hard brick and mortar. She wasn't sure when she'd finally drifted to sleep in a surprisingly warm stripe of sunlight, but at some point she was woken by the shuffle of bare feet on stone and cracked open her eyes just in time to see Kristoff rise from a crouch in front of her, matted hair hanging in his face. At first her heart sank like a weight at the sight of him, but when she realized he wasn't there to do anything nefarious Anna took a closer look at where he'd been squatting and saw a pile of blackberries waiting for her on a large leaf.

"Why are you helping me now?" she croaked bitterly, brow furrowed in a deep scowl. She knew she should be grateful, a large part of herself was screaming at her to be appreciative, but with everything she'd gone through the last couple of days the last thing Anna wanted to be was gracious towards the being who pretty much left her for dead.

"The skruntling came to me. Said you'd eaten fae berries," the stag-man rumbled from the sagging doorway, back facing her. "Humans are helpless when they close their ears to skruntling advice."

"You mean when they're trapped unfairly in a magical bubble," Anna countered with a growl, dragging herself into a sitting position despite still being able to feel the tilt of the earth.

Slowly the stag-man turned back towards her, apathetic black eyes shining in the twilight. He was silent for a few moments, compiling his thoughts or working out how to weave his words together into something she could understand.

"You are angry," he stated rather than asked as if the emotion was a mystery to him.

"Of course I'm angry!" Anna blurted. "I'm trapped in here with _you_ and all the other hell spawns living in this castle for _three months_! Do you think that would make me happy? Do you think I have a clue how to live like this?" she demanded, waving her arms as if the hovel she was squatting in told the entire story of her plight.

Her sudden outburst seemed to either irritate or intrigue Kristoff judging by the way he scrunched his face and frowned, but which emotion it was Anna wasn't able to tell. "I am not here to please a human. I look after all of Tree Spring. That is all."

It was strange hearing him speak in full sentences even if it took him a little longer to string the words together. She would have commented on this had a powerful cramp not chosen this moment to explode in her gut and double her over until she had her forehead pressed against the floor while tears rolled out of the corner of her eyes.

"Why are you doing this?" the redhead accused between gritted teeth, squeezing her abdomen as tightly as possible as it attempted to melt through her clothes.

"I am not the one who ate fae berries."

"Why are you keeping me here?"

"I did not choose to keep you here," Kristoff said matter-of-factly. "It was the tree's decision."

"Please, just let me go," Anna hiccupped, lifting her head so that she could stare into the creature's face. "I can't stay here."

For the first time since her arrival, Anna saw something pass across the stag-man's bestial face that wasn't just another form of cool apathy. He was still frowning but it looked as if he were uncomfortable or at a genuine loss, scratching at the back of his shaggy head with a massive hand and looking away.

"You should eat the berries. They'll make the pain go away."

"I'll just get sick again," Anna muttered, slumping onto her side and lacking the energy to move.

"You won't. Eat the berries," Kristoff declared one more time before walking out of the tower and leaving Anna alone once more.

At first her pride won over necessity, but it was amazing how a funny mentality of pride could be pushed aside when there was literally nothing to lose and everything to gain. And those berries looked so tempting it was almost impossible to just ignore them. It took her three tries to reach out and snag the leaf holding the berries with her fingers, palm slapping the stones with each attempt. Eventually she was able to drag the pile over to her and tentatively popped one berry into her mouth, chewing and swallowing as if it were glass. Anna waited for a long while to see if her tumultuous stomach would violently revolt against her again, but it seemed the stag-man was right. The berries didn't further irritate her stomach and seemed to help soothe the cramping a bit. Only daring to eat half the pile—she wasn't sure when she'd get a chance to eat again—Anna allowed herself to drift back to sleep, too exhausted to care what crept in the shadows or walked the castle in the darkness.

The next morning she was startled awake by something butting her arm and jerked back when Hissy's fuzzy profile swam into focus.

"What are you doing?" Anna mumbled, rubbing her eyes with the heels of her palm.

"Kristoff said to get you up and bring you to the bushes," the little skrunt said sitting back on her haunches.

"Why?" the redhead asked, more than a little worried.

"He wants to show you something. Come on!"

Fighting back a gnawing sense of dread, Anna clambered uneasily to her feet and was surprised to find that she felt significantly better than she did yesterday. Most of the nausea was gone and her stomach didn't cramp once while she slowly made her way out of the castle and followed a bounding Hissy through the dew-slick grass to where the crop of squat bushes grew in a tight circle on the West side of the castle.

As they rounded the final corner Anna caught sight of the stag-man standing among the bushes, moving from plant to plant like a gardener tending his crops. He didn't seem to have seen her yet—which was fine since it seemed Anna had to work up her nerve to be near him— and stopped in front of a flowering pink bush, reaching gently inside and withdrawing something with tender gentility. At first the redhead thought he was holding a piece of wood in his big hands and found it curious he looked so pleased staring down at it. A wide smile slowly spread across his bestial face, and it was such a jarring shock to see a different emotion aside from cold indifference crack through the stag-man's mask.

_He looks almost human,_ Anna thought, watching him lean in and whisper something to the piece of wood. Suddenly the thing in his hands sprang to life with a flourish of bright wings, pinkish-red sparks raining down on the bush under where it hovered. Anna felt her mouth fall open with shocked surprise and laughed in awe before she could stop herself. Startled, the stag-man jerked his head up, ears perked and eyes once again growing cold at the sight of her. The fluttering thing hovering next to him dove into the bush, disappearing from sight. Anna felt her cheeks flush and looked away, feeling as if she'd intruded on something private and had subsequently ruined the moment.

"I'm sorry," she started, fingering with the hem of her tattered and filthy bodice. Kristoff grunted, but whether it was an acceptance of her apology or a rumble of irritation it was impossible to tell. "You…wanted to see me?" she asked meekly, feeling like she was about to be scolded and bracing for it.

"Come," he commanded, waving her over. Anna cautiously approached, hyperaware of just how small she was compared to the stag-man. The top of her head barely reached the bottom of his chin, and his long, powerful arms could no doubt wind around her waist and crush the life from her had he had the inclination to do so. She hadn't noticed it before, but standing in the sunlight Anna was able to see a half-circle of gold around his furry, thick neck, the ends capped with what looked like two stag heads. It was strange that this creature would wear such a piece of fine jewelry while the rest of him was shaggy and unkempt. The stag-man caught her staring and returned her gaze, watching her quietly out of the corner of his eye as if deciding what to do with her. Anna shifted uneasily under his gaze. Finally the weight of his stare and the building tension became too much to bear in silence.

"Look, I'm sorry for eating those berries the other day. Hissy tried to warn me, but I didn't listening, and I've learned my lesson. I'll try to keep out of your way from now on even if I don't have the first clue how to live in the wild. And I know that's not your fault, I mean, it kind of is, but I have to make the best of a bad situation, you know, and just thought—"

She abruptly stopped and froze when Kristoff pressed his big, calloused hand against her face. Anna felt tingling sparks against her forehead where the pads of his fingers rested and tried not to whimper but wasn't sure she'd managed to hide her sudden twist of anxiety.

"You talk too much," he rumbled, furry brow scrunched in what seemed like a perpetual frown.

"I…" she swallowed, his hands still on her face, "I do it when I'm nervous."

"Learn to listen, human."

She nodded her head rapidly, praying he didn't flex his powerful fingers and crush her skull like she believed he could without a second thought.

"You will listen now."

Another fervent nod, arms rigid at her side, hands clutching the fabric of her skirt.

"Good. Learn quickly," he said in his slow, methodical speech, removing his hand from her face. "There are rules you must follow while here in Tree Spring. You do not reside among humans. This is fae territory. Different laws than humans. Different consequences for not listening."

"I understand."

"You do not," Kristoff growled, leaning close enough to Anna that she could see her reflection in his onyx black eyes. "So I will show you."

Turning back to the bush, he gently placed his hands amongst the brittle branches, thick with healthy green leaves, and spread them apart to reveal the heart of the plant. With prompting nod at Anna the redhead peered in, unsure what she was supposed to be looking for.

"I'm not quite su—"

She gasped and pulled away—gathering her wits—before pushing her face back into the gap and staring hard. What she assumed had just been a snarl of branches and leaves slowly twisted towards her, dozens of eyes peering shyly out from behind actual leaves. One by one the little creatures emerged, walking on two legs amongst the branches like jesters walking a tightrope. Their faces were pink and shaped like the peddles of the flowers blooming on the bush, while their bodies—no bigger than Anna's thumb—resembled spindly green branches covered in knobs. If they stood still long enough they practically disappeared inside the brush, perfectly camouflaged.

"What are they?" she whispered, fearing that speaking too loudly would spook them and they would scatter.

"They are the faefolk," Kristoff answered simply as if it were common knowledge.

"They're so small," Anna laughed in surprised delight, leaning in to get a closer look. But the moment she set her hands on the branches next to Kristoff's the little beings shrieked and changed. Their once flowering faces and healthy bodies withered, red eyes replacing black ones, fangs elongating in their screaming mouths. The redhead jumped back with a startled cry and just about tripped over Hissy.

"What the hell!?"

"Oooooh, you're showing her the bush fae she stole from, aren't you?" Hissy said shaking herself in order to reset the quills and vines Anna had disturbed.

"I didn't steal anything; I just picked a few berries!"

"You did not ask permission," Kristoff corrected, reaching in and allowing a few of the berry fae to climb onto his hand. They seemed back to normal when he touched them, but the moment they saw Anna they shifted again, ugly little faces scrunched in hissing disdain.

"You should apologize," Hissy suggested, nudging Anna's leg.

"For picking berries…from a bush?" she asked incredulously, eyebrow quirked.

"All creatures need food, human. You took their food," Kristoff growled, gently replacing the fae back into their bush only to withdraw something else. It looked like just another twig, but when Anna took a closer look it was one of the berry fae, only this one was limp and lifeless. "You took their nourishment. Fae work hard to replenish the berries every day, but you took without care. Some fae went hungry; some needed the food more than you."

"It…I…" the redhead seemed at a loss as to what to say. She hadn't expected anything like that to happen. They were just berries after all…right? "Is it dead?"

"Yes," the stag-man said quietly with an exhausted sigh.

"And I killed it by eating the berries from this bush? So what does that mean about the berries you gave me last night? Did you kill plant people to feed me?"

"I do not kill what I protect! I give much of myself so they can live!" Kristoff shouted angrily, making Anna jump and shrink back. Snarling, he turned away from her in disgust. "This is pointless. Humans do not understand and never will."

"That's because you're not doing a good job of teaching her anything," Hissy rattled. Turning to a somewhat shaken Anna she said, "Everything here in Tree Spring regrows the next morning so most of us have something to eat over the winter. Usually we sleep when the Horned One sleeps, but here in the barrier we can continue living, but that means we have to eat every day. The bushes always make enough to feed the fae who live in them, plus a little extra, but you ate more than they could remake in a night. Only a few were able to eat enough to survive till they made more. If you had asked, the berry fae would have been able to give you what extra they had, but you didn't. You stole their food, insulted them, and caused a few to die. That's why they're angry. To the fae, to us, everything comes at a price, and sometimes that price is permission granted."

"Is that why I got sick?"

"No, humans can't eat fae food. It's poisonous to you, which is why you should have listened to me when I told you not to eat from certain bushes without asking. Its fae food until they give it to you, then you can eat it."

"That's confusing."

"Not if you remember to always ask before taking."

"I honestly thought you were talking about asking Kristoff for permission. I…I didn't mean any harm, I swear," Anna implored in a small voice, understanding slowly starting to dawn on her.

That stag-man snorted as if he didn't believe her and turned back to the little dead fae in his hand. He took a thorn from the bush and pressed it into the meat of his thumb until a small bead of blood welled up from the wound and let one small drop slip from the tip of the thorn and fall onto the creature. The change was instantaneous. Where there was once death there was life. The berry fae's withered body grew supple and green again, the pink of its wilted face returning like a gentle sunrise. After a moment it stood and stared up at the stag-man who smiled down at it with a warm kindness that softened his features considerably. When the little fae saw the wound on his thumb it seemed distressed and crouched next to it. With its tiny hands it covered the puncture wound and gently pushed until a green spark popped into the air followed by a flat vine that wound around Kristoff's thumb like a bandage. The stag-man laughed and the sound of it sent shivers down Anna's spine and made her scalp tingle. It was so rich and genuine she couldn't help but smile, some of her unease falling away.

_He's not so bad, I guess,_ she though only to frown a moment later, _if you're a fae that is. Anything else and you are an ungrateful thief._

Feeling the need to do something to rectify the situation, Anna reached into the small pocket on the side of her skirt and withdrew a blackberry. Unsure she was doing the right thing, she approached the rejuvenated fae and offered it the fruit, bowing like her father had often done when speaking to clients.

"I'm very sorry I ate from your bush without permission. It won't happen again."

The little berry fae regarded her and her gift for a moment with an air of aloofness before quickly snatching it from her fingers and holding it high in the air like a trophy. A few wayward faces appeared from between the leaves, peering at the fae in Kristoff's hand and the berry held above its head. Then it darted back into the bush in a rush after giving Anna a nod of approval.

"That was very kind of you," Hissy said with a happy laugh. "They'll appreciate the offering."

"I really am sorry," Anna offered again, sheepishly looking up and Kristoff and was surprised to find him regarding her with something near approval.

"Here, in Tree Spring, you take only what you need and no more. That is forest law. Give and take, ebb and flow."

She nodded her understanding which seemed to be what the stag-man had been after. He turned away without another word and walked back up the slope towards a wide gap in the castle wall where Bracken was watching perched atop a snarl of vines.

_You honestly think she's going to abide by our laws?_ the skrunt lord sneered as Kristoff came to stand next to him, crossing his arms over his broad chest. Below, Anna and Hissy were going bush to bush, the little skrunt introducing the human to the different bush fae. Anna would bow and offer a blackberry, apparently pleased by the result it gave her judging by the broad smile on her face.

_She will learn our ways one way or another. _

_ She's a human, Kristoff. They always say they understand but then they turn around and break their promises. All of them are liars and cheats. _

Kristoff regarded Bracken with his usual impassive stare. _As I recall, you know a lot about broken promises._

The skrunt lord physically bristled, the quills running the length of his back rising. _And I have been punished for my mistake a hundred times over._

_ The Horned Lord does not think so._

_ The Horned Lord is old and losing touch with Tír na nÓg_ _and the rest of the Tuatha Dé Danann. Each year his power wanes and a little of his sanity goes with it. He pours all his power into this little spit of land, and for what? For something he'll never get back?_

It was Kristoff's turn to bristle. _It is not our place to question. He is the Lord of the Forest and we are his servants. Do not forget yourself, Bracken, or think yourself above his judgment. Perhaps he keeps you here because you have not yet learned enough of a lesson._

_If your human pet is supposed to be my test, you will be sorely disappointed. She will be just like the rest of them and die like the rest of the poor fools who wandered into Tree Spring over the years, _Bracken bit back.

_Then I will teach her myself, _Kristoff decided, black eyes still tracking the human. He couldn't understand why but there was a familiarity to her that niggled at him every time he saw her. It was like he should be remembering something but grabbing at it was like trying to catch smoke with his fingers. Though that should be common placed—Kristoff remembered practically nothing about his past save for shift gray images that made no sense to him—this need to remember the redhead was almost urgent.

Through his connection to all living things in Tree Spring, the stag-man could feel the pull of the Great Tree like an itch he couldn't scratch that would grow more urgent and demanding the longer he ignored it. It was his true master pulling on the chain of service around his neck, reminding him that sustenance was needed and he was the only one who could give it.

_It is time to feed again, _he sighed, walking towards a deep pool of shadow and stepping into it. A second later he was emerging from another shadow at the base of the tree, staring up into its leaves like he had a hundred thousand times before. Bracken appeared a moment later, emerging from a wall of vines much like Kristoff had from the pool of shadow.

_It demands more and more every year, _the skrunt lord said unhappily. _One day it will take everything from you and leave you like a forgotten husk._

_ It is my duty to feed it, and with the Winter Solstice approaching it needs more to last the winter until he wakes._

_ This year will be painful,_ Bracken sighed, feeling a true pang of regret for perhaps the only friend he had in Tree Spring.

_It will, but I will manage. Watch after the human. Make sure she doesn't do something stupid._

At this Bracken snorted. _Trouble is all humans are, Kristoff. Remember that. _

_ Good thing I have you around to keep things in line_, Kristoff said with a tight smile as he approached the tree, the spiral markings starting to form under his fur the closer he got.

_Good thing, _Bracken nodded and slid back into the wall of vines.


	7. Chapter 6

Onyx black eyes flicked open with unnatural alertness, already adjusted to the early morning gloom. Sight, sound, smell, taste and touch all came rushing into the forefront of his consciousness as it did every morning, the overload taking Kristoff a moment to work through. It took a few seconds for his memory to slog through the back build, but that was normal. The panic Kristoff had felt the first few times he'd awoken without the knowledge of who and what he was had long since faded, becoming more of an unavoidable irritation. Now, however, he simply waited for everything to return to him as it usually did in the slow trickle of remembrance. Sitting still and blissfully silent, he let his body acclimate to the pulsating heartbeat of life within Tree Spring. Five decades within the barrier had attuned him to the thrum of everyday fae life and the tidal flow of different magics swelling beneath the Great Tree like a turbulent sea. He could hear and sense almost everything and felt the shift and twist of movement from the smallest flower fae all the way to the massive earth dwellers still slumbering in the inky shadows. Eventually he was able to sort himself out and stood with a grunt, his sinewy limbs stiff from sleep. Arms out wide as if to embrace the morning the stag-man took a deep breath of the early morning air, sharp and crisp like a ripe apple, bone and joints popping.

Looking around the small upper room Kristoff called his own, he let out a collective sigh of relief and threw up a quick prayer of thanks to the gods. Today was the first day he hadn't woken to find a cluster of irate fae sitting in his window or clinging to his wall waiting to relay their most recent grievances about the human living under the barrier. Ever since her arrival the stag-man had dealt with an unending procession of complaints ranging from the mundane to the dangerous. The earth fae gripped that she stomped around with little care of what resided under her feet. A few times she'd apparently trampled important herbs and food for the smaller fae without noticing and hadn't known the proper apology when confronted. The tree and bush fae complained about the human's near abundant clumsiness, and how she continued to take more food than necessary, or that she didn't reciprocate their greetings properly. The ground-dwellers seemed to have the strangest grumblings, protesting that she continued to relieve herself in strange places—sometimes dangerously close to hostile fae dwellings—and insisted on washing her smelly human body upstream, temporarily tainting the water that flowed through Tree Spring. On and on they came, and it became apparent that if Kristoff didn't intervene soon not even he would be able to protect her. But despite his bold talk with Bracken and the reassurance he'd become proactive in the human's education, he didn't have the first clue as to how to teach her about the fae in a way she would understand.

Blowing out a slow breath that brought his arms back to his side, Kristoff moved to a slender window and looked out over the expanse of the sprawling castle. In the velvety, blue-gray light of dawn nothing visibly moved save for the rustle of the tree canopy above, but he could sense different beings shifting within the shadows. Crouching down, careful not to knock his antlers against the wall—it was a more common mishap than he'd like to openly admit—the stag-man breathed a warm breath onto a bare patch of creeper ivy that had begun to snake into his room through the window. The green leaves and vines shivered, round little flowers blooming from the cluster of tight little buds.

_Good morning,_ he greeted the tiny flower fae, green sparks flashing at his fingertips as he gently stroking their delicate peddles. The little blooms turned towards him, tiny faces grinning back as they chattered happily in voices that sounded like the tinkling of a wind chime.

_It is a very clear morning,_ he agreed with a broad smile, glancing up at the cloudless blue-black sky glimpsed between the swaying boughs. Just the slightest hints of color were beginning to warm the horizon. A breeze swept in and tickled the fur on his face, bringing with it a mix of different earthy scents. The flower fae swayed in the breeze, laughing happily as they danced back and forth, eliciting a rumbling chuckle from the stag-man.

_Go wake the others. Tell them I'll be along shortly, and make sure the Creepers aren't arguing with the bumblebee fae again. _

The cluster of tiny flower fae nodded and stood up on spindly legs longer than their torsos. They waited for another strong gust of wind to swirl into the structure and immediately threw themselves into it, a dozen or more spinning bodies whirling away like dervishes. After watching them depart, Kristoff reluctantly stood and was about to turn away when something crawled into his window and sat on the ledge.

_Not today, _he grumbled into his palms and stared down at the small newt creature sitting on its hind legs, sticky little hands clasped in front of its black and red spotted belly in an eerie copy of how humans stood.

_But I have a grievance! _the newt cried in a squeaky voice, narrow tail swinging around to cover its sticky little feet.

_You had one yesterday, _Kristoff sighed, folding his arms across his chest._ And one the day before that. I'm telling you, the human may be a severe irritation but she didn't turn you into a newt._

But _she did! She did turn me into a newt! I saw her do it. One day I was a baker and the next I was a duck then a pigeon then a newt! I demand recompense for her crimes! I wish to be a baker again!_

Kristoff didn't know whether to feel irritated or bemused by the little creature. He wasn't quite sure where this particular fae haled from—if it were fae at all for that matter—but almost every week it came to him with some form of wild accusation regarding one fae or another. This week it had been a constant stream of accusations targeting the human and claiming she had outlandish powers capable of doing all sorts of mischievous things. To be quite honest, Kristoff feared the little creature had taken one too many cracks to the head, or had too many people step on him.

_I will look into your accusations. You have my word._

_ She cannot be trusted!_ the newt proclaimed, now clutching his tail._ If she has the power to turn me into a newt she has the power to bring about the destruction of Tree Spring!_

_ I'll keep close watch of her, _Kristoff tried to say with a straight face. The idea of the clumsy little human having the power to bring down the Great Tree was laughable._ Now be off. I have duties to attend to._

The little newt nodded once and scampered away, leaving the stag-man alone once more. Shaking his shaggy head, Kristoff couldn't help but chuckle a little as he absentmindedly rubbed the gold torc around his neck. Today was shaping up to be quite interesting.

_Gods…today, _he groaned, suddenly feeling older that he appeared and twice as weary. Poor though his short-term memory might be, Kristoff knew exactly what today was and felt fresh anxiety squirm around in his stomach like a ball of worms. Yule was upon Tree Spring yet again. It marked another year passed under the barrier, another year tending the Great Tree and watching the magic slowly fade from the behemoth regardless of how hard Kristoff tried to supply it with the necessary magic to survive. Wearily, the stag-man leaned against the window and closed his eyes, wishing he had the power to make this day end here and now.

_I am the last of the Horned One's servants, and I am the weakest, _Kristoff inwardly lamented, nervously rubbing the gold stag head capping one end of the half-circle torc resting against his collar bone. _Another year has passed, and I am no closer to fulfilling my duty to my Master. Will this year be my last?_

The thought was too vast and painful to imagine. All he knew was Tree Spring and his duties. If he didn't have any of that…

_I will try my hardest this year. I will give my all…even if it ends my life. _

Steely resolve rapidly replacing anxiety, the stag-man stood and made his way down the narrow stairs hewn into the side of the wall just outside his room, each step padded with spongey moss that bloomed with white flowers with each footfall. Stepping into the shadows of the lower level of the castle, Kristoff headed in the direction of the Great Tree—the first of many stops during his morning rounds. To make the trek easier, and to make certain he didn't disturb any sleeping fae, he picked a shadow at random and walked into it, picturing the Great Tree in his mind. Darkness enveloped him only to flee a second later as he walked out of a new shadow at the base of the tree and quietly stared up at it. Even after five decades Kristoff found a level of sheer wonder in the giant. Nothing on earth or in the realms beyond could match its grandeur and power. Wrapped in reverent silence, he felt the tension in his shoulders fractionally relax. As active as he might be, Kristoff was a genuinely solitary being who enjoyed being alone with his thoughts, and he did that best in the early morning.

Mouth quirking into a thin smile he lifted his gaze towards the ceiling of living branches and leaves above and started in sudden shock that grew into sizable alarm. His keen eyes easily picked out a patch of yellowish-brown leaves lingering amongst the healthy green ones, and a sick twist of dread squirmed within him, obliterating any shred of momentary peace he might have just been feeling. Broadening his gaze, the stag-man realized with dismay that there wasn't simply one patch but many scattered throughout the canopy.

_No…no, so soon? I thought I had more time…_

The presence of browning leaves on the Great Tree was beyond troubling. A few here and there wasn't anything to be concerned with—trees oftentimes lost a few leaves during the warmer seasons for various reasons—but these patches were large dead spots, and like a cancer they were spreading.

_I've not been giving enough. That has to be the reason,_ the stag-man agonized, shoulders drooping in despair.

His entire existence was to tend and nourish the Great Tree. That was what the Horned One had commanded him to do all those years ago when Kristoff had somehow come into his service. Tend to the tree and the fae who gathered around it. But it wasn't as simple as that anymore. Five decades he'd given the tree his all, poured his essence into it, but it wasn't enough…_he_ wasn't enough, and the level of despair he felt was crushing. Suddenly Kristoff wanted nothing more than to run to the Great Tree and right this wrong, to throw himself against the rough bark and nourish it as he had for years, but he couldn't. Not now anyway. Tonight was Yule, and he had to make the necessary arrangements for the ceremony taking place at sundown. He also had the human to contend with. That pestering thought brought a crease to his brown which deepened into a surly scowl the longer he dwelled on it. She was a wrinkle in his previously smooth existence, a problem that needed dealing with, but there was just too much that demanded the stag-man's attention. Kristoff felt jerked in countless different directions and growled with frustration, rubbing his face with his hands.

He left the large courtyard quickly and went in search for his morning meal, hopeful that would sweeten his souring mood. Food in Tree Spring wasn't difficult to find if you knew where to look, and Kristoff had long ago become quite adept at foraging. It also helped when he had dozens of ground and bush fae willing to aid him in his search for needed nourishment. He found a handful of fallen nuts under a shaggy bush and gathered them together on a broad leaf after offering the fae who dwelled within a spit of his bounty. Four or five bush fae handed over his allotted ration, chattering excitedly about the ceremony taking place that night, and he found some tasty onion shoots growing near the stream. Meat was a scarce commodity in Tree Spring— mostly only the skrunts hunted for such things—so Kristoff contended himself with eating his fill of nuts, berries, and sprouts while sitting beside the babbling stream. Partially through his breakfast, Kristoff stopped in mid-reach for another juicy berry and turned his head ever so slightly towards the secondary presence emerging from a grassy mound behind him.

_Happy hunting?_ he asked Bracken as the skrunt lord crouched on the other side of the stream, tearing at what looked like the remains of a skinny squirrel.

_Tough but eatable. I dislike winter prey, but what can you do?_

_ Did you take that from one of the wolves or did one of your budlings fetch it for you? _Kristoff inquired with a slight smile. It was well known within Tree Spring that Bracken had a fierce rivalry with the barrier wolves who stalked the forest around Tree Spring.

_I'd never accept anything from those ass-sniffing curs, _Bracken sneered, ripping off bits of bloody meat and swallowing it quickly. _Knowing them they'd put iron in the meat just to fuck with me._

_ Like you wouldn't deserve it, _Kristoff chuckled, lowering his hand over the smooth-flowing water. Pulling up sharply, he caused a small ball of undulating liquid to rise from the surface, which he offered to Bracken. The skrunt lord nodded his thanks and ate the water-ball, sighing with satisfaction.

_So,_ he began, picking at his teeth with a hooked nail,_ is she dead yet?_

Kristoff knew exactly who Bracken was talking about and sighed. For just a brief moment he'd been able to forget about the human and the unending trouble attached to her. _I'm starting to worry you were right._

_ Be a little more specific, because I'm right about a lot of things,_ Bracken grinned, clearly enjoying himself.

_That humans are hopelessly stupid._

_ Ah, well, you had to learn that lesson on your own._

_ Did you know she made water beside a Halfax's nest?_ Kristoff asked, absentmindedly twisting a few strands of grass between his fingers.

Bracken's startled expression splintered apart into a bought of rolling laughter. _And it didn't turn her to smoldering ash and drag her into the earth as a nest for its young?_

_ Apparently not, thanks to your budling who has been shadowing her all week. _

_ I always knew that particular bud of mine was a little strange, _Bracken sighed, eating the rest of his meal in two quick bites and jumping the stream to stand in the sunlight. _She thinks differently than the rest of her bud-mates. Getting her to hunt is like pulling spines. Getting her to talk like we do is even harder._

_ I noticed that, _the stag-man commented, leaning back and resting on his elbows. _Regardless, I still had to deal with an irate Halfax the next morning. Do you know how hard it is to talk to those things when they start to free-burn?_

Kristoff hocked in disgust and spat into the grass, mulling the hazy memory around in his mind. Halfaxes were reptilian creatures that looked like long salamanders with triangular heads. Four of five dwelled within Tree Spring and usually kept to themselves, making nests of ash and embers under large rock piles and only coming out to bask in the sun or do a little hunting. They were, however, naturally combative and hellaciously stubborn when insulted or slighted.

_I don't interact with Halfaxes for a reason, _Bracken sniffed. _Vine and fire fae generally don't get along. I will, however, still snack on the human's corpse once it presents itself. It matters not if it gets chard in the process._

_ At the rate things are going, that might be sooner rather than later, _the stag-man huffed. Working on the Great Tree's behest or not, he wouldn't be able to stop the combined efforts of the fae if they judged this human and wanting to kill her. That was just the nature of the beast, and he should be indifferent to it…or so he thought. Kristoff had to wonder, in the secret places of his fragmented mind, what else about this human rubbed him against the grain other than her blatant ignorance. Perhaps it had something to do with the niggling worm of confusion he felt whenever he saw her—a piece of a puzzle he didn't know he'd been trying to work out for decades—but whatever the reason, she made him feel strange and that in turn perpetuated his frustration and made him want to keep his distance.

The skrunt lord grinned, showing off sharp teeth. _Say the word and I'll make it so that she was never even here._

_ If it comes to that you'll be the first fae I come to._

Bracken chuckled as he turned and strolled away from Kristoff, searching for a place where he could nest until the sun was at its peak. Leaning back and watching the leaves shift and sway above him, Kristoff attempted to relax for a few moments—mind unable to detach itself from thoughts of the human—before abandoning his lounging and began the first of many tasks that had to be completed before the sun set. Most mornings he walked all of Tree Spring, checking on different fae as he went, making sure there were no squabbles that needed resolving or grievances that needed to be addressed. Most of the fae under the barrier lived in relative harmony, but they were still creatures with their own mindsets and sets of rules, and more times than he could count Kristoff had acted as a buffer between feuding fae. The rest of his day was spent gathering food, moving the mound-dwellers around, and making intermittent trips to the Great Tree for its feedings. Today, however, there would only be one feeding, freeing the stag-man of his usual duties so that he could prepare for the Yule ceremony.

It took him a better part of the morning to gather the necessary herbs and minerals needed for that night. Arms filled with his gatherings, Kristoff set out for his place by the stream but realized he'd forgotten an important herb and detoured through the castle in order to retrieve it. He passed a few forgotten rooms along a strip of crumbling corridor—mind again lost in thought—and didn't realize where he was until a bright beam of sunlight flashed off of white marble, startling him out of his introspection. Looking around with a start, Kristoff found himself standing in one of the large circular ballrooms along the back half of the castle. Gray and black marble pillars—carved in the likeness of different species of tree—circled the room between large triangular windows, their leafless branches supporting a domed glass ceiling that no longer existed. Rarely did he ever venture into this part of the caster, for there were places even the fae wouldn't go. It was a mystery as to what had prompted him to walk this particular path or why today the rooms seemed oddly alive with energy, but the stag-man's eyes eventually settled on a trail of ruby-red flowers creeping along the floor, and a burst of goosebumps raced down his arms and back. Vertigo struck like a serpent at the same moment something shifted in the back of his mind, the irritating itch of recognition niggling at the base of his skull.

_I've forgotten something...what have I forgotten?_

Crouching down, Kristoff gently touched the strange flower, one he'd not seen growing in Tree Spring in years, rubbing the velvety peddles between his thumb and forefinger. It was strange…something about the plant seemed unnervingly familiar.

_I know this flower, _he said to himself with a concentrated frown, following the trail with his eyes as it snaked from the room and disappeared into the labyrinth of dark stone. Curiosity temporarily piqued, Kristoff rose and walked along the flower trail, eventually finding its end at a large hole in an outer wall that overlooked a wide area of green grass abruptly ending at the barrier's edge. For a long while the stag-man stood looking out at the forest beyond the barrier, unsure what he was trying to remember and unable to catch the fleeting memory. Snorting in irritation, he decided to leave it for now and continue on with the sole reason he'd walked into the castle in the first place. He found the ivy he was looking for crawling up a dilapidated flight of stone steps and picked what he needed, but before he could turn away, Kristoff felt something shift in the shadows across from him and smiled thinly.

_What brings you out of your slumber so early, skruntling? _he inquired, already knowing which skrunt was stirring in its nest.

"Hissy," the skruntling said groggily as she shook away the remnants of sleep, shifting in the bed of tangled vines where the cluster of skrunts slumbered, identifiable only by the jut of their spines sticking out of the spongey moss. Skrunts, like all other earth-dwelling fae, preferred to burrow or meld into patches of vines while sleeping, ensuring their safety while also providing them with earth-based nutrients.

_What? _Kristoff frowned.

"My name is Hissy. Anna gave it to me," Hissy said rolling like a pill bug out of the moss causing a few of her bud-mates to growl in irritation and shift away.

_Skrunts don't take names._

"Then explain Bracken," Hissy countered, tottering forward on wobbly legs. She arched and stretched, spines quivering and claws scraping the stones.

_You do have a point, _Kristoff conceded with a small smile that Hissy returned. _Why are you awake so early?_

"I was going to show Anna around some more and introduce her to some of the friendlier fae."

_I do not think it's wise for her to continue interacting with our kind, _Kristoff frowned, feeling an anxious twist in his chest.

"How else is she going to learn? We can't have her trampling around Tree Spring for the next three months. All new fae to the area have to learn the rules. It's only fair."

_She is not fae, _Kristoff said firmly, putting more bite into his tone than necessary._ She's human, and they are sometimes beyond teaching. _

"So says the master of Tree Spring who won't have anything to do with her," Hissy shot back. "She's learning…just slowly. Yesterday she greeted the berry fae all on her own and helped the bumblebee fae find flowers. She knows a lot about plants and stuff and tells funny stories. She's not as bad as everyone keeps making her out to be. She's not a monster like Bracken says all humans are. Did you know they scrub themselves clean with _animal fat_? They call it soap. How weird is that?"

Unbidden, a sudden trail of electricity raced up Kristoff's spine at the mention of human hygiene habits, and he felt another wave of familiar yet confusing recollection wash over him. Why did that sound so familiar? But the moment he reached for the answer it fled like a frightened rabbit, slipping between his fingers. He hadn't noticed he'd stopped walking until Hissy looked back at him some ways ahead, head canted.

"Something wrong?"

_No…just thought I remembered something important,_ the stag-man shrugged, shaking his head to dislodge the tingles still lingering at the base of his skull.

"Anyway, yesterday was good save for when she almost stepped on a mound-dwellers tail but ended up falling into a snarl of snake weed instead. It took me half the day to get the prickers out of her skin."

Kristoff covered his eyes with his hand and pulled at his face in exasperation. _Is there no end to this, _he asked himself wearily. Snake weed was common under the barrier and easily avoidable, but this human female bumbled around every day like a newborn calf, heedless of the dangers all around her, blithely going about her business with all the grace of a stampeding bull.

_What did the mound-dweller do?_

"Nothing. It didn't even notice, which was nice. It was the bumpy one by the stream."

Kristoff knew the exact one Hissy was talking about and thank the gods that the human hadn't disturbed that particular mound-dweller's slumber. Slow and cumbersome they might appear, but like snapping turtles they could strike like lightning with shocking power and ferocity. More than once, the stag-man had witnessed larger fae and even skrunts ripped in two and devoured by a mound-dweller when it was accidentally disturbed.

_And apparently she also disturbed a Halfax, _Kristoff said, sliding a look at the skruntling. Hissy visibly winced, clearly not expecting or wanting Kristoff to know about that particular incident.

"You heard about that?"

_For the past week I've had nothing but grievances about your human pet. The Halfax was the most troubling, but now you tell me she almost disturbed a mound-dweller? _

Hissy frowned, effortlessly climbing a wall covered in vines and walking along the ruined top so that she was eyelevel with Kristoff. "Anna _is_ learning; she's just slow to understand everything."

_Regardless, why not just keep her in the castle so she can stay out of trouble? It would make all our lives easier._

Hissy turned and looked at him with an unamused expression. "Would you tell Bracken the same thing about staying in Tree Spring throughout the year so he doesn't accidentally massacre another human village again?"

Kristoff opened his mouth to retort but saw the truth in the skruntlings logic. _You do have a point. _

"I'm smarter than you all give me credit," Hissy grinned, trotting off towards the tower room where the human had taken up residence. The stag-man followed, unsure why he felt the need to check on her but needing to know she was keeping out of trouble. "You know, if you want to make certain Anna stays out of trouble, you should start teaching her yourself."

Kristoff turned slowly, face impassive as always but his eyes glinting like chips of black ice. _Yule is today. I have enough to deal with in preparation for tonight's ceremony. I do not have time to pacify a human._

"Her name is Anna," Hissy corrected stubbornly. "And you told Bracken you'd be the one to teach her."

_When the opportunity presents itself. _

"You're stalling and going back on your word. A fae is nothing with his word," Hissy deadpanned.

_Do not mistake my friendliness towards you as weakness, skruntling,_ Kristoff growled, feeling a seed of anger in his chest bloom into a red-hot flower._ I am the master of Tree Spring, and you will treat me as such._ _My task is to guard the barrier and feed the tree; not to teach a wayward human who is only here because the Great Tree told me not to let Bracken eat her. If she gets herself killed that's her problem, not mine._

"But she'll die on her own. She needs your help!"

_I can live with that._

"Well I can't," the skruntling rattled, her spines making a hissing sound as they rubbed together. "Anna is mine. I'm going to make sure nothing happens to her, with or without your help."

The two proceeded in silence through the well-worn hallways and corridors of the dilapidated labyrinth until they reached the tower room. They found Anna asleep against the farthest wall, back facing the door, curled into a tight ball with a blanket of moss draped over her. Only her red hair and scuffed boots were visible, reminding the stag-man of how skrunts sleep with only their quills visible. Had she not been human and a growing problem for Tree Spring, Kristoff would have found her tolerable.

Standing in the doorway, he peered in as he'd done numerous times over the past week. Sometimes, while she slept, the stag-man would hone in on her energy from wherever he was and ponder what her significance was. As far as he could tell, she was practically worthless. Bracken sometimes begrudgingly told tales of humans possessing great knowledge, power, or strength who outsmarted or outmuscled their fae captors, earning the respect of the hidden people, but this human female, this Anna, was a scrappy little thing with little instinct and no common sense. Kristoff had seen deer and wolves with better instincts, and that alone disgusted him.

_I don't have time for this today, _Kristoff told Hissy as he turned and walked on_._

"Fine! Run away. I'll do this myself and prove you all wrong!" Hissy shouted after him as he wove his way out of the castle and walked down the dew-damp slope to the deep spring directly behind the Great Tree.

_My place is not beside a human like some barnyard pet. My place is here and my duties come first, _he raged to no one in particular, feeling the heat of his temper rise into this neck and face. The air around him took on a hazy quality, all forms of plant matter either pulling away from him or outright shriveling into brown weeds if they couldn't retreat fast enough. Kristoff was a creature of habit who enjoyed the simplicity of his life. The ebb and flow was non consequential and plain, but that suited him just fine. The human, however, was like a boulder thrown into a tranquil pond. Her very existence was erratic and disturbing, and it relentlessly chafed at him.

Nostrils flared, Kristoff angrily planted himself by the water and deposited his bundle in the grass beside him, wrestling to even out his breathing and surge of power. Sorting each item into careful piles, he quickly dove into his work crafting the tools and talismans needed for the ceremony, deft fingers weaving and twisting vine and root with practiced ease. Little by little the flames of his anger dwindled into a faint ember as he found a powerful measure of peace in his work. Time became irrelevant as each project took on a life of its own, and before long Kristoff was smiling to himself as he inspected the crown of holly in his hands and the various other crafted pieces resting by his knee.

Setting them aside for the moment, the stag-man turned towards the spring beside him, eager to get this part of his Yule ritual out of the way. One foot at a time he waded into the warm, clear water, careful not to kick up too much silt as he moved. Bathing wasn't something Kristoff often did because really there was no point. Dirt was just another part of living, and he saw no point in washing it off. In fact, the dirtier he was the better he felt, but for the ceremony that evening he had to be freshly washed and painted, the latter of the two happening closer to sundown. Using only his hands, the stag-man rubbed at the fur covering his body until it rinsed clean then did the same with his hair, careful to make certain all the twigs and leaves were removed. He slogged out of the spring and removed his tattered breeches, laying them to dry in the sun while he did the same, a contented sigh passing his lips as he stretched out in the warm grass.

It was unclear how long he'd dozed, but a sudden shrieking scream rent the air, startling him. He was on his feet in seconds and frantically looked around for the source of the cry. Through his senses tied to the land, Kristoff could feel a disturbance in the area's aura but couldn't quite identify what it was. Flexing his bare toes, he cast his senses into the earth and felt the rumble of heavy footfalls like distant thunder. Another cry rippled through the crisp air, and a second later Anna came flying around a corner of the castle faster than Kristoff thought it possible for her to run. Head down and arm pumping, she ran towards his general direction with reckless speed almost as if something there….

A half second later a massive creature came skittering around the same corner, gray hooves scrambling and raking furrows in the soft earth as it attempted to right itself.

_Oh no…_ Kristoff breathed as the mound-dweller let out a piercing, enraged squeal and charged again, boar-like head lowered, great curved wooden tusks scraping the ground.

"I didn't do anything this time!" Anna screamed in a panic as she flew past him followed closely by the mound-dweller who was closing the distance between the two at shocking speed. It towered over her like a giant, hunched back bristling with hair-like grass and imbedded, spine-like stones raised along its back.

"She's right! She didn't do anything!" Hissy shouted, keeping pace with Anna as she ran fill tilt towards a section of castle a few yards away.

Kristoff swore openly and took off after the two, his body moving in a blur. He knew Anna getting into the castle wouldn't be enough. When a mound-dweller's blood was up it could plow through any wall with ease until it reached its intended prey. In half a heartbeat the stag-man was beside the human, matching her stride for stride with effortless ease. Before she could react, Kristoff changed direction and slammed into her shoulder, shoving her out of the way with shocking force before spinning around and facing the mound-dweller head on. The beast didn't falter or slow a single step, its usual brown eyes glowing red with rage and black mouth hanging open, squealing as it came.

A single breath was all he had time for. Their collision was thunderous, earth and wood meeting unyielding flesh and fur like a wave crashing against a cliff. With an echoing roar Kristoff grabbed ahold of the mound-dweller's tusks, corded muscles bulging across his body as the enraged fae pushed him backwards a good ten yards before starting to slow, churning the green grass under the stag-man into muddy furrows from where his feet bit into the earth. Snorting contemptuous rage the mound-dweller— not entirely done with its tirade— attempted to shake the stag-man off its tusks, massive head twisting sharply to one side.

"Stop!" Kristoff screamed in both spoken and non-spoken language without realized he'd done either, holding the beast still. In response the mound-dweller let out a shrieking squeal and attempted to drive him further back, but Kristoff had had enough. With another powerful bellow the stag-man whipped the beast—which outweighed him by at least five hundred pounds—off its feet and into a nearby castle wall which gave way almost instantly in a cloud of dust and motes of floating moss. For a handful of moments all was still save for the panting of the mound-dweller and the rattling of falling stones. Eventually the creature raised its massive boar-like head, the red rage fading from its eyes, and clambered onto unsteady legs.

_Peace, _Kristoff said, holding out a steadying hand._ I only meant to snap you out of your anger._

_ You dare protect a human over your own kind? _the mound-dweller demanded, shaking debris from its body while it continued to glare.

_What grievance do you have against her? What did she do to warrant your anger?_

_ Her presence within our barrier! This is a place for fae, not human filth._

_ Is that all? _Kristoff probed, standing to his full height while letting the weight of his own stare settle over the creature. The earth fae was silent for far longer than Kristoff would have liked, but eventually it elaborated further.

_The berry fae were angry, and I overheard them grumbling. They lost three of their brethren to the human's greed, and still she remains in Tree Spring. What kind of guardian are you if you let filth like this walk among us?_

Ardent though he may appear, Kristoff wasn't one to take insults, especially when the backbiting questioned his right to rule Tree Spring. It might appear he was made of stone but the hardening of his glare and the squaring of his shoulders was like watching a storm blow into port. Suddenly the air was alive with crackling power, the grass under his feet withering and turning brown. The mound-dweller saw this and backed away, body beginning to quiver.

_I'm sorry, Master Kristoff, I meant no disrespect, _it bleated feebly.

_ Do no ever think to question my given right to rule Tree Spring while my master slumbers, or have you forgotten that he rules all of earth? _He raised a finger and pointed it at the mound-dweller prompting more grass to wither and die under him. _Do not question my reasoning for keeping a human among us. If you do not like my ruling on the matter you can take your chances in the winter beyond the barrier. Those are your only options. _

_ Y-yes, Master. Forgive my ignorance. It will not happen again, _the mound-dweller said before turning and limping as quickly as it could.

Kristoff watched its retreat until passed out of sight before whipping around and storming over to the human. She lay on her side some distance away, Hissy looking worried beside her, frantically sniffing at her head and shoulders. After a moment Anna attempted to push herself up but couldn't quite manage it on her first try. Her second was interrupted when Kristoff grabbed her by the back of her dress and physically dragged her towards the castle. For a stunned second Anna didn't quite know what was going on until everything snapped back into focus and she began struggling in earnest.

"Hey, what the hell!? Let go of me!"

Barely trying, Kristoff hauled her to her feet and pulled her uncomfortably close, face scrunched in a feral snarl. "You do not leave those walls again!" he raged, pointing to the skeletal structure behind her. "I will tell you only once!"

"Do _not_ yell at me!" Anna shouted back, clumsily shoving him away from her and almost losing her balance in the process. She winced and wiped at her forehead, fingers coming away smeared in blood but paid it no mind.

"I will yell until you understand! Give me one good reason why I shouldn't drag you back to the mound-dweller and let him eat you?" he bellowed, and Anna jumped back in startled surprise when the air around him grew cold and the grass underfoot shriveled and died. Her eyes suddenly grew wider when she realized the stag-man was standing in front of her completely and unashamedly naked. Frozen in place and flushing so furiously she thought her ears would catch fire, Anna struggled to keep her eyes from wandering the surprisingly chiseled physique of her supernatural jailor or his prominent and…substantial manhood.

"I—that is we—um…" She opened and closed her mouth like a fish out of water, mind going temporarily blank. "I didn't do anything!" she eventually protested, forgetting the scolding rebuke that had just been on the tip of her tongue. "I just walked by that thing with Hissy!"

"She's right," Hissy agreed from her place beside Anna. "I told her to steer clear of the mounds just in case. We gave them a wide berth and kept walking, and that's when it attacked."

"I didn't ask for an answer from you, skruntling. I asked the human. What. Did. You. Do?" Kristoff bit out, body tensing and fur bristling.

"Are you deaf as well as stupid?" Anna snarled in return, aching shoulders bunching as she closed her hands into fists at her side. She wasn't about to be pushed around by a man who appeared more animal than man. "I just told you, I didn't _do anything_! Why is it so hard to believe that this time it wasn't me in the wrong?"

"Because humans are all liars and unimaginably ignorant," Kristoff retorted, uncaring if he controlled his rage or not. This was the last straw. If the tree wanted her alive it could champion her itself. Kristoff was done.

"You don't know me!"

"I know enough about your kind to know you're just a lying upright monkey! Mound-dwellers don't attack unless provoked."

"This one did attack!" Hissy growled, standing between Anna and Kristoff as if her small size wasn't a handicap. "Without cause it attacked! Anna's in the right!"

"You are not helping matters, skruntling. All you've done is parade your pet around for everyone to see and kicked up the hornet's nest."

"Don't blame this on her!" Anna shouted, entirely done with this whole situation. "Hissy has been the only one all fucking week who's given a damn and tried to show me how to live in here. Where have you been, hmm? Aren't you supposed to be the 'great protector' of this little piece of hell? Shouldn't it be you who's showing me all of this rather than a child?"

Rage pushed him towards her, each footfall sucking the life from the ground, but she surprised him by mirroring his approach, the two coming nearly nose to nose, striking sparks of white-hot anger between them. "I have obligations to fulfill! I have duties to attend to! I have so many more important things to be doing at any given moment and none of them require pacifying a worthless waist of space like y—'

Kristoff both heard and felt the sudden fist connecting with his nose and staggered back, tears brimming in his black eyes. For a stunned moment he blinked in shock, whatever else he was about to say ripped from his lips and thrown into the wind. The power circulating around him abruptly died, leaving the air thick with the smell of rotting vegetation in the vacuum of his capped power.

"I'm under your protection, you furry asshole! Yours _Kristoff!_ I don't want to be here anymore than you want me to be, but at least I'm _trying_, which is more than I can say about you. So who's the worthless one now, hmm? The last thing I want right now is to stand here and be belittled by yet someone else who thinks I'm a burden. Well, stag-boy, I didn't choose to stay here, you made that choice for me. So suck it up and get over yourself."

Before Kristoff could even begin to string a coherent sentence together, Anna turned sharply on her heels and stalked off with a little bit of a limp into the expanse of the castle behind her, Hissy following without even a backwards glance. Still holding his throbbing nose, the stag-man slowly turned away, wondering where his anger had gone and why he suddenly felt hollowed out. The feeling remained with him as he returned to the spring and gathered his things, searching for a different place to sit and finish his ceremonial projects, all the while unsure why the humans sudden peppery temper seemed so…appealing.

"The nerve of that arrogant, pointy-antler, stubborn… _jackass_! Where does he get off yelling at me for something I didn't do?!" Anna raged as she stalked through the castle, hardly caring where her feet took her or how loud she ranted. The ache of her red knuckles was a distant annoyance as she stomped on. "It wasn't _my _fault that hill-with-legs chased me. It wasn't _my _fault Kristoff had to lock horns with it. I'm doing my best here! I'm making the best of a bad situation, and he can damn well cut me a little slack for at least trying! I don't see him doing anything. I don't see him making an effort. You've been the only one who's given a damn," she growled without glancing down at Hissy.

The little skruntling nodded her head, silently padding along beside her human companion. Just like Anna, Hissy was angry with Kristoff as much as she was angry with herself. Teaching Anna how to live in Tree Spring was harder than it previously seemed, and she feared she wasn't doing a good enough job. Regardless of her shortcomings as a teacher, Hissy also knew Kristoff would never treat another fae like that. Sure there had been times when he'd jumped between two arguing factions, but he'd never become physical. So why was he so gruff and rough with Anna? Why did it matter if she was human or not? He had to protect her one way or another. Hissy continued to follow for a while, letting the redhead snarl and rant and bleed the frustration out of her blood.

"I mean, who the hell does he think he is treating someone like that?" Anna demanded, carelessly picking up a stone and throwing it down a long stretch of hallway, listening to it clatter to a halt some distance away.

"My, aren't we an arrogant upright monkey."

Both Anna and Hissy turned in the direction of the voice, the latter of the two shrinking into herself a bit. Bracken sat atop the remnants of a crumbling staircase, barely visible against the creeper vine and moss carpeting the stone. His glowing green eyes shone in the shadows like gems, locking on Anna and holding her frozen like a deer spotted by a hunter.

"I'm not a monkey," the redhead seethed.

"You chatter and screech like one," Bracken retorted lazily, dangling leg swinging with an easy kind of grace.

"I have a right to be upset! I've been chased, poisoned, bruised, yelled at, cut, stung, _pricked._ I think I've earned the right to rant a little without having someone insult me as well!"

"Earned?" Bracken chuckled mirthlessly, pulling himself into a sitting position that made him look like a viney gargoyle. "You think that just because you walk our land, eat our food, drink our water, and soak up our sunlight you've earned anything from us? You really are more arrogant that I thought. You haven't earned a damn thing save for our ire, human."

"It's not like I've been given a fair chance! It's hard to garner respect when everyone in this place is out to get you."

"Isn't it just like a human to make it all about themselves," Bracken shrugged, but there was a tightness to his movement and a hardness to his glare that bespoke of building anger. "Do you ever stop to think about what your presence does for the fae living in Tree Spring?"

"What would—"

"More than your feeble little mind could comprehend!" the skrunt lord barked, fangs glinting in the blue-black shadows. "Your presence is a mare, a stain. You remind them just how petty and shallow humans can and will be when given the chance. You're petulant, arrogant, loud, a thief, and a liar just like they remember you all to be. For hundreds of years the hidden people have been just that, hidden, and do you know why? Because we tired of wasting our time, energy, and powers on undeserving monkeys who never saw past their own noses! You clear-cut whole forests for your fires and buildings; you attempt to tame the earth with plow and horse, ripping up the soil and sowing your abomination seeds; you fish the rivers dry and hunt the forest barren in order to fill your bellies, and not a single word of thanks is given to the people _who taught you everything you know!_

"Humans long ago stopped thanking the fae for what they had and started congratulating themselves on their accomplishments. You all went back on centuries old treaties or lied to our faces. You are blights to the land and our people. _That_ is why you are treated like filth, because you are filth, and your presence in Tree Spring just reaffirms why they will never deal with humans."

"Or openly hunt them," Hissy chimed in.

"You're taking _his_ side?" Anna demanded.

"No, just stating a fact."

"My budlings will always take my side. The fact that this one doesn't goes to show there was a defect in her creation," Bracken growled down at Hissy, and the little skrunt shrank into herself, quivering under the weight of her creator's glare. "One I'll make certain to dig out if I have to."

"You fae make yourselves seem so much better than us," Anna snarled with as much viciousness as any skrunt, taking a defiant step towards the skrunt lord, "but you sure do like to demean your own kind. You think you're so much more evolved but you're not. Better stop now Bracken because you're human is showing."

"Oh no," Hissy whined softly. "Oh, now you've gone and made him mad."

The skrunt lord quietly slid from his perch with all the grace of a natural predator, slowly standing to his full height before the redhead. If Anna had been afraid of him before she was currently on the verge of bowl-loosening terror, but despite her fear she stood her ground, attempting to mimic the intimidating posture her sister oftentimes displayed.

"The next time you liken me to your filthy race is the moment I tear your beating heart out of your chest. I've suffered your blight long enough, and my patience is running dangerously thin. You presence in Tree Spring is insulting, and Kristoff is a fool for continuing to protect you."

Anna felt the sting of Bracken rebuke like a physical blow and winced. No, sting was too light a word. It was more like scalding burn. For the first time since her arrival to Tree Spring, the redhead didn't have something to say or a smart retort burning a hole in her tongue. Bracken took her silence as a victory and continued to plow ahead in his verbal thrashing.

"Let me enlighten you on something further, human. The only reason you stand before me is because of Kristoff. The only reason you haven't been torn limb from limb and had your blood sucked dry is because of him. He's your only protection in this little spit of land, your only champion. So I would suggest you reevaluate your attitude before you lose his protection for good because once that happens, once that shield falls, no amount of crying or pleading will save you from a death I'll make damn sure is dragged out to the point of unseemly cruelty."

Feeling he'd gotten his point across, Bracken turned and walked away. He stopped before disappearing around a corner and ordered Hissy back to her nest to prepare for the ceremony later that evening. The little skrunt whimpered and hung her head but wasn't going to chance disobeying her sire, not with knowing how he could be when his blood was up. So with an apologetic whine Hissy padded after Bracken, leaving Anna alone with the skrunt lord's rebuke still ringing in her ears.

Sufficiently chastened, Anna returned to her tower room and sat on the thin bed of moss that had become her only comfort in Tree Spring. Angrily she dug the heels of her palms into her eyes, determined not to shed any tears over her scolding. She knew she'd deserved it, but that didn't mean it didn't hurt any less. Needing something to occupy her hands, the redhead set about trying once more at starting a fire. Despite Bracken's rant about humans clear-cutting the forest for firewood, Anna knew that a fire was the difference between life and death, and she was desperate to feel the kiss of warmth on her skin again. A week without it had put such a primal yearning in her blood it could almost be classified as madness.

With carful precision she made a ring of stones to contain her fire and stacked her jealously horded pile of dry wood in the center. Finding wood that wasn't green or wet was a monumental chore in Tree Spring. From her pocket she withdrew Brenden's strikefire, stopping to stare down at the little piece of flint with a heavy drop of her heart.

_This was the last gift you gave me, so damnit I'm going to learn to use it._

Reaching into the same pocket the redhead withdrew a slender piece of metal she'd accidentally stumbled across while digging for mushrooms. Hissy had recoiled and growled at the shard when Anna had plucked it from the mud, startling her enough that she'd dropped it and had to search it out again. The skruntling explained after composing herself that Anna had found a piece of iron.

"What does that mean? You don't like iron?"

"We can't be near it," Hissy said, the spines along her back sticking straight up in agitation. "Iron is the bone of the old gods who formed earth and all the planes in between. Lesser fae can't touch it because it's forbidden."

"Why can I touch it?" Anna wondered, genuinely curious.

"Because humans long ago rejected the old gods and turned their backs on them. You stopped believing and started defiling the bones to make your weapons and tools. But we fae haven't forgotten, which is why we can't touch it."

Intrigued, Anna slipped it into her pocket and kept it away from Hissy and the others, her own secret treasure. At night, when she was relatively alone, she took out the shard and turned it over and over in her hands until an idea struck her. Flint sparked best when struck against metal, which meant she now had a real chance at striking a fire. Her first couple attempts had been lackluster at best. Anna had read books about starting campfires but reading and doing were two very different things.

Eventually she'd found enough dry wood to build a small cache and arranged a small portion of that into a pyramid within the rock ring. Using a small pulpy tuft of pine bark she'd harvested from a tree near the castle, Anna placed the strikefire almost on top of the bundle and struck it with her iron shard. The flare of luminescent sparks was like watching falling stars drop to earth, a few landing squarely on the bundle, but no embers ignited. Two more times she struck the strikefire, determination steeling her resolve, and on the third attempt an ember stuck and began to smoke. Blowing hard on the infantile ember, Anna puffed until the whispy haze of smoke thinned and a small but unimaginably bright tongue of fire snaked into the air.

"Yes!" she whooped, attempting not to flail around in triumph, and scooted her tiny fire-heart into the center of the pyramid where the flames eagerly devoured the dry wood. Suddenly, watching her flames, the ones she'd birthed through perseverance and a fair stab of luck, the redhead felt her first genuine smile split her face, happiness building in her throat and bubbling out as a giddy laugh. She'd created fire. She'd created light and heat and _life. _The shadows didn't seem as deep now nor the cold as piercing.

"I did it," she whispered, holding her hands out and exalting in the life giving warmth. "I did it! Elsa look I—"

The fall from her momentary high of happiness was so profound she choked on a sob before realized it, tears welling in her eyes. Hand clapped over her mouth, Anna sat back and swallowed hard, body tensed against the wave of profoundly crippling sadness. Eventually it passed and the redhead gathered herself up and hugged her knees, watching the bright flames dance.

"Look what I've made, Elsa," she whispered to herself, unable to stop the tears from sliding down her face. "Do you like it? I'll show you how to do it once I get back. I hope you're doing okay, and that your cough isn't bothering you too much. I promise, when I get home things are going to be different. You won't have to take care of me anymore…I can finally start taking care of you." She sniffed hard, hugging herself tighter. "I'm sorry Elsa, I'm so sorry. Please don't think I abandoned you. Please be there when I get home…"

She would have said more but the tightness in her throat returned and she hiccupped, curling into a ball on her side while the fire crackled away, warming her skin but not her homesick soul.

Anna woke with a start sometime later to the sound of distant drumming and sat bolt upright, more awake and alert than she thought possible. Light sleeping had become the norm for the redhead since her forced imprisonment under the barrier. Elsa used to say she could sleep through Armageddon, but things had changed. Anna could easily wake at the smallest, most innocuous noises. Tonight being no different, she was pulled from her shallow rest by the steady tempo of drumming like a heartbeat thrumming through the stones.

Rubbing sleep from her eyes, she looked around the round expanse of her round room, the embers of her dying fire tinting the shadows an eerie red hue. Through the gaps and holes in the walls she heard the soft resonating warble of unrecognizable instruments accompanied by the high, clear trill of woodwinds.

_I hope I'm not dreaming this, _Anna thought groggily, turning in the direction of the sound and leaning in, holding her breath. Sure enough, the sounds were real but no less strange and intriguing. For a moment she sat in coiled silence, unable to understand where any of this was coming from or why. Curiosity momentarily overriding careful caution, Anna was just getting her legs under her to rise and investigate when something stirred at the edge of shadow closing in around the remains of her fire. A fresh prickle of fear put ice in her veins, and she hastily threw a few cherished twigs onto the embers. In a rush of orange fire the creeping shadows were banished, revealing who had snuck into her quarters. To her surprise three little berry fae and a bumblebee fae stood next to the ring of stones, tiny faces turned towards the fire with an expression suspended somewhere between fear and wonder on their plant-like faces. One of the four glanced over at Anna, saw her staring, and poked its companion, prompting the group to turn from the flames, tiny faces breaking into tiny grins.

"Umm…hello," Anna offered and remembered at the last second to press three fingertips to her forehead and then to her heart in the common bush fae greeting. The four fae reciprocated the gesture, bowing their leafy heads.

"I uh…is there something I can do for you?"

Since the start of her impromptu fae education at the behest of Hissy, Anna had realized—with something of a mix between amusement and frustration— that she'd have to play a weird game of charades with the residence in Tree Spring in order to bridge the obvious language barrier. It made communicating exceedingly difficult, but she was learning. The fae could understand her well enough, but she had a hard time interoperating what they were trying to convey to her, inhuman bodies unused to pantomiming in human ways. Tonight was no different, though this was the first time any fae had ventured into Anna's tower room. And to make things even more strangely curious the fae looked _excited. _

One of the berry fae, who resembled a stick bug with the face of a ruby sunflower, stepped forward and hefted a fairly large bundle over its peddled head. Not entirely sure what was going on, and wishing she had Hissy here to guide her, Anna tentatively took the offered bundle, realizing as she held it up to the light that it was a black stone wrapped in intricately woven hemp and attached to a slender necklace. The gem felt oddly cool in Anna's hands, a faint tingle fluttering against the sensitive pads of her fingers.

"Thank you," Anna smiled—because what else was she supposed to do?—and gave the sign for genuine appreciation. "It's very beautiful, but I don't—"

The fae in front of her motioned for her to put the string over her head like it were a neckless, pantomiming the motions. The other three nodded eagerly, moving into a tight cluster. Still remarkably uneasy, because this could easily be a trap she was blindly walking into, Anna slid the thin string over her head but kept a finger hooked under it in case it snapped closed around her throat like a garrote. That didn't happen but something else did. Anna felt a cold flash of—something—wash over her and cried out in alarm, body stiffening. The tips of her fingers began to tingle along with her tongue and eyelids as if a swarm of bees were buzzing just under her skin. She smelled a fragrant perfume of roses and citrus before the sensations fled as quickly as they'd come, leaving the poor girl visibly shaken and slightly panting.

"Did it work?" a tiny voice eagerly asked.

"Can she hear us now?" another questioned.

"Anna-human, can you hear us?" a third chimed in.

Anna's eyes went wide when she realized where the tiny voiced had come from and rocked back, mouth agape. She worked to form words but suddenly couldn't find anything to say. The four fae edged even closer, looking expectantly up at her, faces eager.

"What did…how—how can I hear you?" she eventually stammered, tongue like thick cotton in her exceptionally dry mouth.

"It worked! I told you it would work on a human. And you were worried her head would explode," said the berry fae who'd given the redhead the necklace, looking back at the other fae in its company.

Anna started, eyes wide. "My head would wha—"

"Yes, Sprout, we get it. You were right," a berry fae with a round little body—like a pea only larger—and the face of a leaf drolled, talking over Anna and rolling its black eyes. "But we're wasting time. We need to get her ready."

"Wait, ready for wh—"

"Tonight is Yule, Anna-human! You have to attend the ceremony."

"We all have to be there!"

"Even you! But you can't go looking like this."

"No, no, that wouldn't be proper."

"Well, humans can't actually _be _there, but we're making an exception."

"Wait!" Anna snapped, effectively silencing the chattering group. "I'm sorry, but I'm confused. Today is Yule?"

The berry fae who had given her the necklace nodded, the other three following suit only with a little more fervency. It suddenly hit Anna like a sucker-punch to the gut that she'd been stuck in Tree Spring for a whole week if tonight was actually Yule. She should have been more shocked at the fact that she was wearing a magical talisman that somehow made it possible for her to hear and understand the fae, but that wasn't the case at the moment.

_One week…one whole week put behind me. Why does it feel like it's been a lifetime?_

That realization sobered her quite a bit.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to snap at you," she distantly heard herself say as she struggled to pull herself back to the present, "but I'm new to all of this. How can I understand you now?"

"It's the stone," one of them answered as the group climbed into her shoulders while the bumblebee fae—which looked like a larger, fuzzier version of its insect cousin only with a disturbingly human face—settled atop her head and began weaving her unruly red locks into tight little braids. "Kristoff asked us to make you one so you could better understand all of us since humans have lost the knack for fae-speak."

"Kristoff…asked you to do this?" Anna inquired softly, lifting the dark gem into the firelight and examining it a little more critically. From her perspective it looked like a shard of dark glass, the edges roughhewn as if cut with a pick or chisel.

"We would have given it to you sooner but you had to earn it. The skruntling who follows you around was supposed to give it to you, but she's with Bracken tonight for the ceremony," the bumblebee fae in her hair said, crawling over to the next patch and starting to braid. The other fae were doing the same thing—undoing the end of her double braids—while one of the berry fae dipped its spindly finger into a pouch around its neck and began painting Anna with strange spiral markings made from a red mineral.

A bit too beside herself to protest or even _comprehend_ what these beings were doing, Anna held still and let them work, not wanting to offend anyone. Not after they'd given her something that was actually extremely useful and…heartfelt. Odd how suddenly her view of the creatures dwelling within Tree Spring could shift. She might not trust the fae completely or understand them, but this was an act of kindness she couldn't and wouldn't look beyond.

"So I can hear you all now. Does it work on all fae under the barrier or just you four?"

"Everyone," the four answered in eerie unison.

"You're spirals looks very nice," she complemented the berry fae painting her face and the back of her hands.

"Kristoff told us to do this tonight for your sake because he said you'd get into trouble without it. It's an incantation that works alongside the glamor-stone to make you appear like one of us to the visiting fae coming into Tree Spring. The rules we are governed by don't apply to them, and if they saw a human in their midst they'd kill you outright without hesitation. They don't know you're not really a dumb upright monkey."

"Gee, thanks," Anna grumbled under her breath.

After a five minute makeover, the redhead pulled herself to her feet and ran her hands through her freshly braided hair, feeling strangely refreshed. It went without saying that one week without proper bathing had left Anna feeling a little crusty and self-conscious. She used to be a stickler for keeping herself clean, scrubbing every other day with special scented soap Elsa usually picked up for her on market days. That was impossible to do now—and apparently bathing in the stream was considered rude and unsanitary to creatures who slept in the dirt—but the fae had helped alleviate her grunginess a little. Gone were her customary double braids, replaced with a complex latticework of micro braids, a few flowers and what felt like stones woven in for good measure. The redhead wished she had better cloths to wear, her bodice, blouse, and skirt extremely worse for wear after a week of sleeping on the ground and scrambling in the mud, but some things couldn't be helped.

_I think I'd commit a cardinal sin in exchange for a fresh change of cloths. Hell…I'd even kiss Kristoff. _She suddenly wrinkled her nose at the thought. _Eh, maybe nothing that drastic._

At the urgent prompting of her entourage, Anna followed the excited fae out of the tower room, two flying in front of her while the bumblebee fae and red-faced berry fae remained on her shoulder and head. Picking their way through the endless piles of debris and lichen, Anna began hearing the chatter of low voices drifting through the cool night air, mingling with the otherworldly music. It reminded her of the few parties at Kai's pub they'd been dragged to while her parents were still alive. All that was missing was the ring of clinking glasses and the memory would be complete. She'd be seven years old again tugging on her father's pant leg, wanting to know when they could leave, bored out of her skull, wishing she could just…

Anna stopped walking and felt her heart fly up into her throat with an excited leap, unsure where to feast her eyes first or for how long. They were everywhere. Creatures that could have only existed in the depths of her dreams or the leafed-through pages of a storybook walked before her as flesh and blood beings, milling or perched around the Great Tree. Some were tall and thin like willow reeds, others were low and lumpy like mounds of rocks or clumps of dirt.

A few looked almost entirely human save for their angular faces and unnaturally long limbs; some reptilian, and others would never pass for anything but fae or some variation of animal hybrid. Some wore recognizable articles of clothing or intricate gowns, while others appeared to be wrapped solely in vines or moved among their brethren completely naked. Some had wings—bat, owl, hawk, raven, insect, feathery, leathery, and everything in between— most had claws, a few even looked to have gills, and all of them, _all of them_ emitted a strange green glow that suffused the area with soft ambient light.

_No, _Anna thought with amazed wonder, staring openmouthed, _that's not the only source of light._

Along the cracks in the crumbing stone, in the moss, and along the creeping ivy—like stars plucked from the heavens to shine on earth—pale blue mushrooms glowed with a weird form of witchlight in the greenish gloom, adding their own bright glow to the magical world opening up around the redhead like a storybook. A few were as big as she was, but Anna couldn't remember seeing these strange glowing mushrooms before tonight. Still, that wasn't the strangest or most captivating thing she was witnessing this Yule evening. Above the larger fae flew clusters of avian and the ever-abundant berry and flower fae. Around the tree they swirled and spiraled, the gems and bright stones they carried to place at the base of the tree, the first of many offerings that night, flashing like lightning in the witchlight.

"This is incredible," Anna breathed, forgetting her unease about being near so many wild and hostile creatures. Wonder and amazement ensnared her fully, her saucer-wide eyes skipping from one fascination to another. It wasn't until a small mound dweller bumped into her as it made its way towards the tree that Anna remembered where she was—more importantly _what_ she was—and blanched away, readying herself to bolt if need be. But the creature merely snorted an apology, voice like grating rocks, and lumbered on.

"You shouldn't be afraid. No one can see that you're human," the berry fae on her shoulder reassured, and Anna had to wonder just why they were being so nice to her this evening.

"Well, that's not entirely true," the bumblebee fae corrected. "Anyone who knew you were human before you put on the glamor-stone will see your true form. This is just to protect you from visiting fae."

"Hope I don't run into the pig thing that chased me," Anna whispered, unconsciously looking around for the mound-dweller but unable to spot in the throngs of fae creatures.

Content where she was near the back of the large courtyard, the redhead climbed atop a jut of rock and watched the spectacle unfold before her as if she were watching a mummer's show or a party from the rafters of Kai's lodge. Fae came and went, dropping offerings at the base of the tree before mingling with their betters. There was ample music and dancing—though most of it was alien to Anna and just a little wild—the courtyard opening up every now that then for groups of whooping and hollering fae. They jumped and spiraled, twisted and bent, dancing in strange, almost erratic patterns, their clothing oftentimes colorful and flashy. Food was dispensed sporadically throughout the crowd by smaller ground dwelling fae. Here and there Anna caught a glimpse of a few skrunts, but Bracken and Hissy where nowhere to be seen. Eventually the two fae lingering around the redhead flew off to be with others of their kind, leaving Anna alone but happy to watch this mythical party rather than become involved. Glamor-stone or not, she wasn't going to risk a possible mauling because she didn't know the proper greeting. Despite what Bracken and Kristoff thought, she wasn't as stupid as she appeared.

At some point Anna slid down from her perch and wandered around the edge of the crowd to an alcove that gave her a better view of the newest dancers in the courtyard. They were accompanied by at least five or six drummers pounding a thrilling beat on skin drums and hollowed out tree trunks. The dancers were a strange reptilian fae, covered crown to heel in shimmering green and opal scales and draped in long strips of leather, feather, and beads. They tumbled around one another, whooping and shouting, edging the crowd into whoops of their own and rhythmic clapping. Anna clapped along with the fae, voicing her pleasure as the group tumbled and jigged. She'd only been standing there for a handful of minutes when a sharp howl pierced the air and made the blood in her veins turn to icy sludge. The gathered fae quieted almost immediately, the drumming halting like a heart gone still. A ripple moved through the ranks of fae as all eyes turned in Anna's direction.

_Oh god, please don't see me as human,_ Anna prayed, attempting to appear as curious as the rest of the gathering while trembling under their scrutinous gaze. The pant of heavy breath and the click of nails on stone was her first and only indication of the new arrivals to the Yule celebration. A half second later a large furry body slipped from the shadows and trotted right past her alcove, silky black fur shimmering in the witchlight. The wolf was accompanied by at least twenty others, sinewy bodies gliding past Anna like savage specters, clawed feet clicking on the cobblestone as they traveled through the crowed that respectfully parted and closed back in around them.

It was impossible to tell if these were the wolves from a week ago. Anna hadn't paid any attention to color or marking while being chased through the snowy woods and nearly mauled to death. Still, the sight of them was enough to bring back the painful echoes of the primal terror she'd felt knowing her friend had just been mauled to death and there was a very real possibility she was next. Hand clutching her chest, Anna fought to control her fear and reminded herself that she was safe. The pack passed her by without even a passing glance, their focus on the tree and nothing else. She was about to breathe a sigh of relief when one of the wolves towards the back of the pack stopped and sniffed the air.

_No, please no. Don't see me…don't see me…don't—_

The wolf suddenly turned and looked around as if confused, head swinging from side to side. Anna held her breath, backing into the shadows, but it was to no avail. The wolf eventually spotted her and made a beeline for where she stood. The redhead felt her breath freeze in her lungs and pressed herself against the wall, fearing that if she so much as flinched the beast would attack. Quite vividly she remembered the agony of fangs sinking into her shoulder and claws ripping at her skin. The memory pushed bile into the back of her throat, but she was determined to remain strong, standing steadfast in the face of her fears. Tentatively the wolf sniffed the air between them as if sensing her unease, then before her eyes it changed. The motion was as fluid as water spilling from a cup. One moment it was standing on all fours and the next it had kicked back onto its hind legs which were bending and morphing, taking on a familiar form. Fur disappeared under fleshy pink skin, bones rearranged, and in a matter of moment where the wolf once stood now stood a man. Her recognition of him was instantaneous and she felt the tilt of the earth as everything became shockingly bright and warm.

"Anna?" the wolfman breathed, bushy eyebrows shooting into his hairline.

"Brenden," the redhead gasped between the fingers covering her mouth.

Suddenly he was pulling her into a crushing hug and laughing in joyful relief. "I thought I'd never see you again! How did you escape? Why are you here?"

Body locking under a wave of ardent fear, Anna stood stiff in the wolfman's embrace until he let her go and stepped back. Eyes large and fierce, she stared hard at the man in front of her, unsure if this was a cruel trick crafted by the fae or actually real. Brenden caught the incredulous way she was staring at him and stepped back further, giving her more space, but still vibrating with happiness.

"You're…dead," Anna said, attempting to move away but finding her way blocked by the wall behind her.

"I thought the same thing about you," the one-time woodsman laughed, his smile shinning in his now amber eyes.

"This…this isn't real…" she said, planting her hands on either side of her head. "I watched you ripped apart."

"I thought I was dead too, but it really is me," he reassured and reached for her but let his hand fall when Anna visibly flinched. Brenden was quiet for a moment, mouth pressed in a thin line. After a stretch of fragile silence it appeared a thought suddenly came to him and he smiled wide, revealing elongated canines. "When you were ten summers old your father gave you a wooden practice sword. You and I used to play knights by the river. One day Harris broke your sword over his knee because he said girls couldn't be knights. You broke his nose in return."

A flash of shock arch across the redhead's face, quickly smothered by cautious suspicion. She narrowed her eyes. "How did you get that crescent shape scar on your hand?"

"Your sister bit me," he answered, smile growing wider.

"Why?"

"I didn't tell you then, and I'm certainly not going to tell you now."

Anna felt the tension coiled inside her fall away, and she sagged in visible relief. Brenden had never explained why Elsa had bitten him or when, and the redhead's sister had never divulged her reasoning either. Before she could stop herself Anna lunged forward and wrapped herself around Brenden's neck, never so happy to see him. Tears pricked her eyes and she blinked them away, unable to keep the laugh from bubbling past her lips.

"It _is _you. But how is this possible? I saw what the wolves did to you."

Seeming to realize what she'd just said, Anna retreated a step and looked the onetime woodsman up and down. Save for the face-flushing fact that yet another naked man stood before her, Brenden seemed whole and healthy. But it was more than that. He had always carried himself with confidence, but now it seemed to exude from him like a powerful aura. He held himself higher, squared his shoulders, puffed out his chest, and _smiled. _Brenden had always been a friendly sort but he rarely smiled so openly unless around his friends, and even that was curbed. Now, however, it seemed like he couldn't pry the grin from his lips.

"I remember what they did," Brenden said quietly, either not noticing Anna's flush or choosing to ignore it for her sake.

"What happened?"

"That's really hard to say. I remember telling you to run and feeling myself losing consciousness. Then I was gasping awake on the forest floor covered in snow and blood, only I didn't feel the cold. I didn't feel much of anything, truth be told. I was scared and confused. I didn't know where you were or how much time had passed. My first thought was to start looking for you when the Alpha showed up with the rest of the pack."

"Alpha?"

"The pack Alpha. The black wolf. I admit I was terrified at first. I mean, who isn't a little beside themselves when a wolf turns into a man for the first time in front of you, eh?" Brenden grinned and winked. "I thought he was a demon and tried to run, but he was patient with me and explained what had happened. Turns out, humans are forbidden to enter this stretch of woods. That's why it's never been properly mapped. We got too close to the barrier with the cart and horse, prompting them to attack. It turns out they were just trying to scare us away."

"But they pulled you off the horse!"

"Because we headed in the wrong direction. I….it's hard to fully explain. The wolves aren't bad, Anna. They were just protecting Tree Spring. That's their duty, though it's hard to imagine _why_ they'd protect a giant tree growing out of a crumbling castle," he added, looking around.

"Turns out it's a fae sanctuary of sorts," Anna waved airily. "But that's unimportant. How are you a wolf now? What did they do to you?"

The redhead saw the easy happiness slip from Brenden's face. "It's punishment for trespassing. No humans are allowed near the barrier, that's the law they live under. The fact that you made it through was troubling to them, but they can't do anything now that you're here. It has something to do with the big tree over there," the wolfman said, pointing at the Great Tree.

"Yeah, that's what I've heard all week," Anna grumbled, crossing her arms over her chest.

"Count your blessings?" Brenden offered. "Things could be worse."

There was a sad fact Anna had to begrudgingly agree on. Things could definitely be worse. Over the last seven days she'd had plenty of close calls, but had remained otherwise whole and healthy when she knew her situation could have ended so much worse.

"So…you're one of them now? You're a wolf?"

"I am," Brenden grinned, taking a deep breath of the heady spring air.

Anna frowned at his happiness, perplexed as to why he would be even remotely happy with his doomed fate. "And you're okay with this? You're okay with losing everything? What about your brothers? What about your father?"

Brenden looked down, a small flare of shame coloring his cheeks. "I know this doesn't make sense to you. It didn't make sense to me for a few days until I finally puzzled out why, when I was turned, I felt relief rather than sadness. In truth, Anna, I never intend on returning to Sors after I took you to Breakwater City. I wanted out of that spit of land as much as you did, maybe even more than you. I'd planned on leave a long time ago knowing my brothers' wouldn't care where I went. They've said as much to me in the past, and after a while you tend to start believing them. My father was the same way. He has three other sons to contend with. I was just the youngest and least experienced or celebrated woodsman."

"But they're still your family," Anna argued stubbornly.

Brenden shrugged. "Family isn't always blood, Anna. I'm learning that with this pack. I've never felt so alive before or _wanted. _God, they actually _want_ me. The whole pack! I've got a purpose now I never knew was missing from my life. It just took getting mauled to death by wolves to show me."

"But…but what about me? I was—am your friend. You were just going to leave?"

"Honestly, Anna, do you really think Hans would let the two of us remain friends? The moment you returned to Sors he was planning on marring you." The shock on her face caused him a moment's pause before continuing. "When would we have seen each other? When would we have talked? Your suitor would make every effort to ensure you and I never again saw each other, so what was I losing?"

The ball of guilt and shame that climbed into Anna's throat choked her. Brenden was right. Hans hated the woodsman and never trusted her around him…never trusted her around any man for that matter unless her suitor was present by her side. So the wolfman was right, and it hurt to realize it. But under the pain, like a tiny black seed, was a spark of fear that grew just a little more when Brenden mentioned Hans and a possible marriage proposal. Goosebumps raced the length of her spine, momentarily chilling her for reasons she couldn't quite explain.

"I just thought—"

"There you are pup!"

Both Anna and Brenden turned as a sinewy man strolled confidently up to them and clapped the latter on the back, grinning fiercely. He, like the onetime woodsman, was naked as well, and Anna silently wondered if there was some law against clothing in the fae realm. If her face could flush any deeper she was sure she'd start a fire with her skin alone.

"Alpha, this is Anna," Brenden said, ducking his head in a show of supplication and respect.

"A name to the face we lost to the barrier," the Alpha said with a little bit of bite in his voice. "So you've survived your stay. An interesting turn of events."

"Believe me it wasn't for lack of trying," Anna replied, attempting to keep the atmosphere light. She would have known this man was the pack Alpha before Brenden introduced him. The air of power and authority he exuded was like forge heat. If it were even possible, Anna imagined she could _smell_ his clout.

"I imagine you tread with luck by your side if you haven't been eaten by the riffraff growing in the barrier. Especially with the grass dogs milling about in the mud."

"It wasn't for lack of trying on our part, I can assure you," a pinched voice said from above, drawing the small group's attention to a very irritated looking skrunt lord perched on the wall. "Ryok," Bracken sneered, jumping down to stand next to Anna.

"Bracken," Ryok nodded, a smug smile on his lips. "How fare you, grass dog?"

"As well as to be expected," Bracken shrugged with forced nonchalance and grinned savagely. "I mean, I can't really complain. Abundant food, warm weather, no snow anywhere…it must be so galling for you to only be privy to this kind of luxury once a year."

"I wasn't aware winter lasted for four seasons. I think this luxury has gotten to you, old one. Perhaps a little lean living will strengthen your muddled mind," Ryok retorted, still smiling smugly.

"Age begets wisdom, mutt. Perhaps you should think twice before picking a fight with a being who hunts underground."

"Oh ho ho, so you do have a little bite left in you. Well, I challenge you to hunt near our cave. I know skrunts are more partial to soft earth, but stranger things have happened. Mind you, this will only happen once your "grounding" is through," the Alpha chuckled.

Bracken visibly bristled, and Anna and Brenden took a step back, not wanting to get drawn into a possible brawl. "As I recall, deer only dwell in deep forests. Let's see how confidently you tread with the knowledge that I or one of my kind might be under you, waiting.

"Do you even remember the taste of deer? I mean, with you having to scramble in the dirt for mushrooms when there's a perfectly supple human traipsing about. It must be hell."

"Oh for the love of god," Anna exhaled and rolled her eyes. "Will I be anything other than food to you people?"

"No," Bracken and Ryok said in unison without turning to look at her, the air tense between them.

"Come pup, we have offerings to make, and I must teach you the proper words," the Alpha eventually said, pointedly turning his back on Bracken.

"It was good to see you again. Congratulations on not dying. Give my love to your sister when you see her again," Brenden said with a quick hug before trotting off with his Alpha, the two quickly returning to wolf form as they entered the crowd of fae.

"He's going to be fuming for weeks," Anna heard Hissy sigh from beside her.

"Where have you been all night?"

"I had to help Bracken get Kristoff ready," the skruntling replied, sounding more tired than usual.

"Ready for what?"

"The ceremony that's about to start," Bracken answered tightly for his budling, eyes trained on the skeletal remains of the castle.

"I thought this was the ceremony," Anna said aloud, eyebrow quirked.

"Hardly," the skrunt lord scoffed. "Kristoff must feed the tree one more time this year. His last feeding is the most important. It sets the stage for the coming year."

"Feed the tree? Feed it what exactly? It's a tree."

Bracken turned towards her but there wasn't a hint of condescension anywhere on him, rather a tight kind of anxiety that hadn't been there during his brief volley with Ryok. "Blood, human. Kristoff feeds the tree with his blood every day. That is the price for being the Forest Lord's servant and his continual existence in Tree Spring."

The shock was plain on Anna's face, but it revealed little of the alarm and potent nausea swirling around in her stomach. "He mutilates himself to feed a tree?"

"No, the tree does it for him. And it's not just a tree, human. The Great Tree sustains all life within Tree Spring, and Kristoff in turn sustains the Great Tree. Ebb and flow, eternal balance." Leaning close he added, "All magic comes at a price. Never forget that. Everything you have in Tree Spring, every morsel of food you consume or blade of grass you tread upon comes from Kristoff sacrificing himself daily."

Anna stood in bewildered silence, sudden understanding washing over her like freezing lake water. She should have known there was a deeper meaning to this place, but she'd been so blinded by her own selfish needs to look beyond her own face to notice. Anna understood now why Kristoff had been so adamant about her not getting near the Great Tree, but it was more than that. She had a small portion of insight on the stress the master of Tree Spring must be under if this was a daily occurrence, and the redhead felt a thorn of guilt slide into her heart.

_If what Bracken says is true, Kristoff gives everything for these fae, and I've been taking it all for granted. What a horrible existence, to live to bleed day in and day out._

As if receiving some unseen signal, a reverent hush suddenly fell over the gathered fae, the atmosphere alive with the electrical buzz of magic and anticipation. With quivering excitement the crowd parted, and he was suddenly there, standing amongst the gathered fae like a god come to earth, otherworldly in his grace and exuding a resonating thrum of power. Anna felt her mouth fall open, utterly captivated. His fur-dusted body was painted from head to heel in intricate red spirals that bloomed into an impossibly complex tree-knot on his back. Atop his head, wound around his gleaming antlers—decorated with mistletoe and hanging wooden talismans—was a crown of vibrant holly. Around his neck hung strands of leafy green ivy along with his ever-present gold torc resting against his collar bone. The tattered breeches he usually wore had been exchanged for a snug loincloth that left very little to the imagination, needed so that as much fur-dusted skin as possible was visible tonight.

"Wow," Anna breathed, thoroughly impressed.

"I was going for that reaction," Hissy smiled, flexing her stained claws.

"You did that?"

"Red ochre is always used for ceremony and magic casting. That's why you have some on you right now. It's one of the most potent minerals because it's earth blood," Hissy explained, sensing the question before Anna even asked.

"Wow," the redhead said again, lacking the wit to come up with anything substantial as she watched Kristoff.

Step by careful step, the stag-man approached the tree, the ground under him coming alive with shoots and blooms of grass and flowers. Green fire flickered at his fingertips, charging the air with humming energy. Anna felt it in her chest like a low rumble, every molecule in her body vibrating in answer to the call of the wild magic coursing through Tree Spring. Eventually Kristoff stood at the base of the tree with a sense of rigid obligation, his back ramrod straight and antlered head held high as he took a moment to look into the sprawling expanse of swaying leaves, breathing in the heady scent of earth and wild forest magic. All eyes were trained on the master of Tree Spring, every breath held. One by one, the fae reached out to their neighbors and set hand atop shoulder, weaving an intricate knot behind Kristoff, channeling the abundant earth magic coursing under their feet like a raging river. They began to gently sway to the beat of an unheard rhythm, voices mingling into a primal song that sent shivers across Anna's body.

Dragging his gaze away, Kristoff focused his attention on the gleaming sword hilt jutting from the trunk of the tree like an ornate splinter and the permanent handprints worn into the wood on either side of it. How many servants had put their hands in that same spot to feed? It wasn't his place to ask questions, but he had to wonder. Though he'd done this thousands of times in the past, the stag-man still hesitated, rubbing his sensitive fingers nervously together, the scabs from his last feeding only just beginning to fade. Knowing that the further he delayed this the worse it would be, Kristoff swallowed and placed his hands in the imprint and exhaled, closing his eyes on the world around him and opening them to another.

The connection was made the instant flesh touched bark. Kristoff felt the vines rise from under the rough surface and pierce the skin of his palms and fingers, wriggling into his body and searching for the life-sustaining blood pumping through his veins. He ground his teeth against the momentary flash of bright pain before his body acclimated and fractionally relaxed. Despite still being able to feel the searching fingers squirm under his skin, Kristoff relinquished control and focused on his magic and the Yule incantation he was required to sing every year. He could hear the song echoing around him, the voices of previous servants of the Great Tree coming to him through the echo of memory and joining with the voices of the fae with him that night. Head bowed, Kristoff began to sing in a resonating voice the melodic harmony of ancient words building within him like a storm.

Power rippled through the earth, a windless breeze pushing the fae back a split second before the protruding roots of the tree began to glow with sizzling blue knotwork identical to the ones painted on Kristoff's body. The fae saw this and doubled the volume of their song, adding the pulse-beat of drums, bodies swaying and sweeping in time with the ancient song. And the spirals on the tree rose higher. On they sang, bodies and souls melding into one being, combined voices merging into one strong voice with Kristoff at its nucleus, and still higher the spirals rose.

Anna felt tears slide down her face without even realizing she'd been crying, her lungs begging for air she thought she'd been breathing. Never in her wildest dreams did she imagine she'd see something this spiritual and breathtaking.

_Oh Elsa, if only you could see this._

But despite the beauty, despite the wonder of breathtaking magic and soul-stirring song, there was a building tension in the air like a thread pulled too taut. Anna didn't feel it, she couldn't, but Bracken could. He stood stiff beside the human, intently watching Kristoff with growing unease as the tension continued to grow. The skrunt lord could see what others couldn't, what they either refused to see or didn't care to see. Sweat beaded and ran down the stag-man's pain-contorted face. His teeth were gritted to the point of cracking, muscles trembling as if he were pushing against a mountain with the intent on moving it himself. When he suddenly went to his knees, Bracken broke away and disappeared into a wall of ivy only to reappear a half-second later next to Kristoff. The skrunt lord went to bent knee beside him, close enough the stag-man could hear him speak but far enough away that the tree wouldn't react poorly to his presence.

_Kristoff, stop, you give too much._

_ It's not enough, _he panted, eyes still screwed shut against the agony washing over him.

_It is enough,_ Bracken pressed, watching the vines under the stag-man's skin climb higher, passing his elbow._ You can only give so much. Kristoff, you're going to kill yourself! _

_ It's not enough. I can give more. I have to give more!_

He bent his head farther, antlers tapping the tree, and pushed his dwindling magic reserve into the tree with all his might, trying to fill the hole in the tree's failing life force that had only grown larger as the year progressed. At one time he could have filled it easily, but his magic wasn't enough anymore. He might as well slit his writs and bathe the cobblestones in his blood for all the good his feedings had done. Still he tried, desperate to prove his worthiness, desperate to fix the problem he knew could be mended if only he could give more. If only he was just a little bit stronger.

_Kristoff…_Kristoff! _The vines are going too high. If they reach your heart your dead! Stop feeding!_

_ I can do this._

_ You're going to die, you stupid horned monkey!_

_ I can do this!_

_ I'll pull you away if I have to!_ Bracken raged, torn between watching the glowing blue spirals climb into the canopy, turning the green leaves into millions of shimmering stars, and the black tendrils creeping up Kristoff's bicep._ Stop the feed!_

_ I can do it…_Kristoff panted, blood starting to dribble out of his nose and ears. He was so close to filling the hole, so close to fixing the problem, so close to…

His roar shook the stones like the boom after a lightning strike, shaking the cobblestone and startling everyone. The Great Tree flared with blinding light before going dark, sucking the light from the luminescent mushrooms and throwing the courtyard into an eerie green half-light. Taking advantage of everyone's temporary blindness, Bracken grabbed ahold of Kristoff's arms and wrenched him away from the tree, severing the connection. The sharp irony tang of blood filled the air for a moment as the skrunt lord pulled the stag-man through a curtain of vines and back to where Anna stood attempting to blink away the ghost-lights dancing behind her eyeballs. She jumped when Bracken appeared and gasped when she saw he was supporting a sagging Kristoff.

"Take him to the Spring, and get him into the water," the skrunt lord hissed in a low voice, shoving her away from the tree and the throngs of fae recovering from the blast of magic. They managed to get down the slight grassy decline before Bracken stopped and handed a barely conscious Kristoff off to Anna.

"I—what? Take him whe—"

"To the Spring, you stupid monkey! He's bleeding and can't be around the fae or me."

It was then that Anna noticed the rivulets of dark blood dripping steadily from the stag-man's fingertips. Focusing further, she realized most of the skin below his elbows was red and raw like undercooked meat, and the skin above his elbows was missing entirely in swirling chunks as if something had been ripped out from under his flesh.

"But I can't—"

"I don't care what you can and can't do. You will do this or I will tear out your throat here and now! _Now go!_"

Anna staggered under Kristoff's sudden and unexpected weight as Bracken whirled around and went back up to the courtyard.

"I'll help," Hissy said but looked as lost as Anna felt.

"Right…okay," Anna grunted, trying to adjust the stag-man's heavy arms over her shoulders and carry him—or attempt to—like she'd had to carry Elsa when her sickness struck. "Just have to…take one…step at a…_shit—" _Kristoff suddenly lost consciousness and pitched forward the second Anna took a full step in the direction of the Spring, sprawling on top of her like a sweaty, bloody, pungent sack of—

_Exceptionally muscular forest god…thing…person, _she thought with a raging flush as she attempted to roll him off of her.

"Heavy. So…ugh…h-heavy," she wheezed, fighting to pull herself along by grabbing fistfuls of grass, mindful of his horns. Hissy jumped in too, wedging herself under him and standing on her back leg. "Jesus, Mary, and Joseph, I will never fantasize about naked men pinning me down in the grass again. Nope, never again. Well, partially…naked. Still. Horney forest men covered in red stuff and bleeding everywhere…not that you're horney or anything—I mean you might be—I don't know…I ramble when I'm nervous. That's a lot of blood."

She managed to wriggle free from under him but now faced the daunting task of hauling someone who outweighed her by at least a hundred pounds around the side of the castle to where the Spring was. And her skruntling companion was no aid either, her small height useless in a situation like this. It definitely took more effort and a wild amount of grunting but the redhead managed to get Kristoff to the Spring through the combined tactics of rolling, scooting, and pulling on his antlers. Inch by struggling inch she drug him until finally Anna collapsed on the bank of the Spring, sweating and breathless.

"Man am I out of shape," she huffed, flushed for various reasons. "Do I really need to get him in the water?"

"Yes," Hissy nodded.

"Great," Anna wheezed and summoned the last of her strength, tucked the stag-man's ankles under her arms, and drug him as far into the water as she could before the bottom dropped out from under her and she suddenly sank, disappearing under the surface. Spitting out surprisingly lukewarm water, she grabbed Kristoff's loincloth for added leverage but fell back with a splash when the damn thing came untied.

"Oh for fuck's sake!" she raged, tossing aside the useless piece of cloth, ignoring the stag-man's full exposure, and dragging him the rest of the way in by his thigh. The moment his bloody arms hit the water it began to glow much like the tree had. Anna would have gladly splashed out of the eerily glowing water as quickly as possible, not wanting to test her luck tonight, but if she did Kristoff would sink under the surface and probably drown.

_And then I'd most certainly be dead. Sorry stag-boy, you're stuck with me for a bit._

"Good, it's activated," Hissy breathed a sigh of relief. "Stay here. I'm going to find some herbs to help." And off she ran, leaving Anna alone, in a warm, glowing pond, with a naked, unconscious Kristoff.

"Yeah, wonderful, just strand me here."

It was amazing how much lighter someone floating in water could be. Crouched on an underwater shelf, Anna kept her hands under the stag-man's shoulders, watching with a perverse kind of fascination as his wounds closed up and disappeared, fresh skin and tawny fur regrowing as if nothing had even happened. Figuring it was safe now to drag him out—wounds healed and all— Anna pulled Kristoff onto the shore, shaking running water from her arms and struggling to move without tripping over her waterlogged skirt, wishing she had a way of making a fire. The water might have been warm but the wind was cool, chilling her.

Sitting at the water's edge next to Kristoff's shoulder, Anna carefully took his hand in hers and examined his skin closely. She'd not noticed it before, but there were faint black scars under the dusting of fur, spirals almost identical to the ones Hissy had painted on him but had washed off in the water. Anna traced them with her fingers, fascinated by how they twisted and turned almost like vines imbedded in his flesh. Kristoff suddenly jerked awake at her touch, startling her enough that she gasped and jumped away from him. He looked blearily around, saw her watching him, and groaned, hands covering his face.

"You are the last person I want to see right now," the stag-man groaned between his fingers.

"Wow, you're _so_ welcome," she snapped, face flushed with angry heat. "The next time you pass out, I'm not going to drag you across the yard and dump your ass in a magical spring. Oh no, I'm just going to leave you on the grass to bleed to death,"

Kristoff canted his head, brow furrowed. "You…dragged me here?"

"Damn right I did! Got the grass and blood stains to prove it. And again, _you're welcome_."

"I…um…thank you," he said rather genuinely, scooting into a sitting position before attempting to stand. He wobbled a moment, took an unsteady step, before his knees buckled and he pitched to the side this time, hands out to stop his fall.

"Whoa, hey, crawl before you walk, stag-boy," Anna protested, moving in to help steady him. That was a mistake.

"I'm fine—"

"You're not."

"I can't manage on my—"

"Stop resisting and just accept my help!"

"I don't need the help of a—"

"You say human and I'm—shit, no stop—I can—nope, going down!"

The two fell in a tangle of limbs, Kristoff contorting so that he didn't land squarely on top of Anna, though somehow in the slick mud she ended up on top of him, her forehead cracking against his.

"_Damn_," Anna hissed, face scrunched against the pain. "What's your head made of?"

"I told you I didn't need help," Kristoff sighed. "Are you okay?" he asked at length, unsure why her nearness, or the fact she was laying sprawled on top of him, wasn't as repugnant as he'd assumed it would have been.

"Fine, fine. Not like I have anything worthwhile in there anyway," the redhead grumbled as she rolled off and continued rubbing her forehead where a red goose-egg was starting to form.

The stag-man decided against another standing adventure and instead scooted over to a tree thirty or so feet behind him. The Spring was still aglow, would be for a while, providing enough light for the two to see. Anna sat for a minute, torn between joining him or just getting up to go back to her room. But she realized that if Kristoff's painted red markings had come off hers must have as well, meaning mingling with the fae in Tree Spring right now would be suicide. Sighing heavily she walked over and plopped down, still rubbing her forehead.

"Are you alright now?" she asked quietly.

"I am better than I was," Kristoff retorted, leaning his head back and closing his tired eyes. He could still feel the ache in his arms where the vines had claimed a new inch of skin but couldn't bring himself to look at what he'd intentionally done to himself.

"I'm sorry, you know, for how this week has turned out," Anna said after a stretch of silence. "I've not been at my best, and I've been making things hard for you and everyone here."

"Why are you apologizing for being human? You can't help your nature."

"But I know I've been a huge pain in the ass to you all, and after what I just saw tonight…I didn't realize how much I've been taking things here for granted, so I'm sorry."

"I know you're trying, which is more than I can say about previous humans in your predicament," the stag-man grunted.

Anna snorted and looked away. "I need to try harder. Hans is always harping on me to be at my best at all times. If he could see me now, he'd be disgusted by my behavior."

Kristoff canted his head. "Is this Hans your sire?"

"My what?"

"Your…" he searched for the right word but couldn't find it.

_Papa,_ a voice deep within his subconscious shouted, startling him.

"Papa," the stag-man suddenly blurted, unsure where that word had come from or why it left his tongue tingling.

"Is Hans my father? No, he's my suitor." It was Kristoff's turn to seem perplexed. "He's the man courting me," Anna reiterated. "The man who wants to be my husband?"

"Oh, your mate!"

"I…um…okay? I mean, I guess you could say he is, though we've never done anything that could be considered 'mating'."

"You two have not rutted?"

"Oh my god, no!" Anna said, more than slightly disgusted.

"Why not? He's your mate. Are you not in season yet?" He leaned forward and gave Anna a good hard sniff which she recoiled away from.

"Ew, no. I'm not in season—well that's untrue. I've had my moonblood for a while now, so I can have children—not that I want any right now—but you don't just start having children with someone until you're both wed!"

"That seems stupid."

"Well I didn't ask your opinion!"

"So this mate of yours doesn't approve of you? Seems strange since he's chosen you to rut with. Is he not human as well?"

"He's completely human," Anna said, folding her arms across her chest, not liking where this current of conversation was going. "He just has very high standards that he likes his woman to maintain. I've not been doing that."

Kristoff was even more perplexed now and slightly curious. "And you wish to impress this mate of yours so that he doesn't replace you with someone else. Seems reasonable, but he has chosen you out of what I guess is many in your land. So you must mean something to him."

"It's funny, you're the only one who isn't trying to talk me out of being with him," Anna mumbled, resting her head on her knees.

"Well, why wouldn't those you surround yourself with want the two of you together? If this Hans is a fine choice for a mate, take him, unless there's something more about him these people are sensing."

"I don't want to talk about this anymore," Anna snapped a little more harshly than she'd originally planned. "It's not something I want to talk to a stranger about," she softened a little, fearing she might insult Kristoff.

The stag-man sat back, frowning. It shouldn't bother him that Anna wouldn't want to talk to him about private matters, but he could sense there was more to this than what she was letting on. He might not understand human courting or mating rituals, but the human beside him didn't seem content wither current situation and rather torn. That or he was reading her incorrectly…which was possible. Humans were confusing creatures.

Eventually Hissy returned with herbs and a large folded leaf filled with berries and nuts. The little skruntling seemed exceptionally tired and curled up in the tall grass next to Anna, falling almost instantly to sleep. The redhead was a little surprised when the skrunt proceeded to sink into the earth as if the ground had turned to liquid under her, but Kristoff explained that was normal.

"They are earth dwellers. They submerge into the earth in order to feed off the energy of the Great Tree and recharge for the coming day."

"Huh, I didn't know that. Here," Anna said, offering him some of the berries Hissy had brought.

Kristoff looked at the berries then back at her. "You're sharing them?"

"No," Anna deadpanned. "I'm going to snatch them away when you reach for them. Of course I'm sharing. You need to eat too."

"Thank you," Kristoff nodded, smiling slightly, and popped a few into his mouth. "You know," he said after chewing and swallowing, "you didn't have to help me."

"I kind of did," Anna laughed, shifting uncomfortably in her wet clothes. "Bracken threatened to eat me if I didn't get you to the Spring."

"But you didn't have to stay."

"Again, I kind of had to. The paint the berry fae put on me washed off. I don't think the visiting fae would want to see a human tonight. Plus," she added, feeling a little foolish, "I wanted to make sure you were okay. I don't know how normal feedings go, but that seemed pretty intense. Does the tree always glow like that?"

"It glows whenever it's fed but never that much. Only on Yule, when I give my all to the tree, does it glow so brightly."

"That's a shame, because it was really beautiful."

Kristoff smiled and nodded, feeling oddly content with the human beside him. "I agree. It is very beautiful."

_But it's dying, _he added silently to himself, feeling the weight on his soul double in size.

"So, how long will the party last?" Anna gestured at the castle and the tendrils of music she could still hear drifting from the stones.

"Till sunrise, but I'm not needed for the rest of it. Plus, I'm not really one to mingle with the fae. I tend to the ones who live here, but the others…well…they are kind of hard to get along with."

"Gee, seems like I've heard this story before," Anna laughed and Kristoff smiled right along with her. It was remarkable. She was actually enjoying herself despite her shared company.

"You really have done much better than I previously thought you would," Kristoff admitted. "With the tree's blessing or not, you're learning quickly."

"Thank you," Anna smiled, tucking a loose strand of wet hair behind her ear, cheeks coloring a bit.

"I should take you back to your room," Kristoff grunted as he stood on steady feet, stretching the sore muscles in his shoulders.

Anna scrupulously looked away from his nakedness, lips pursed. She squeaked in surprise when Kristoff reached down and pulled her to her feet with casual yet surprisingly gentle ease.

"Come, I will take you there."

"Oh, I don't think—"

She didn't have enough time to get the words out before the stag-man stepped backwards into a pool of shadow and the whole world went dark. Anna momentarily panicked, feeling the darkness like a physical presence close in around her, pushing in on all sides. It was like she'd gone dumb, deaf, and blind all at once, the world ceasing to exist in an instant only to reawaken in a flash of light, color, and sound. Gasping, the redhead looked around and was shocked to find herself standing in her tower room when she'd been standing next to the Spring only a heartbeat before.

"How—"

"Earth-walking is a talent of mine. It lets me go almost anywhere," Kristoff said with a rather large smile. He found he liked the expression of surprise on Anna's face.

"That was incredible."

"Thank you."

"Um…well, good night…Kristoff," she bowed, a little awkward. Strange how his name didn't twist the ball of fear in her stomach quite as hard anymore.

"Good night…Anna." Strange how her name didn't invoke such a sour taste as it had, and how his name on her tongue made some shriveled, forgotten place within him warm. He copied her bow, unsure why it felt so….right.

Feeling uncomfortably self-conscious, the stag-man hastened from the tower room and headed towards his own quarters for some well-deserved rest but knew he wouldn't find any. Not yet. Something had happened tonight, but he couldn't place a finger on it. It happened whenever he was near the human. When he looked at her he felt…something…stir deep in his subconscious that made him both nervous and afraid. It was like he'd forgotten something important, some key element of himself lost to the void, but what? What could be lurking in the depths of his shattered mind—squatting like a toad in the mud—and why did it wake fear in him? What was he missing?


End file.
